


Sell Your Soul

by infinitelyEnergetic (LoganSW96)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Adorable, All The Ships, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Christmas Party, Cute Ending, Cutesy, Developing Relationship, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay Marriage, Gay Sex, Grief/Mourning, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Prostitution, Smut, Yaoi, dirkjake - Freeform, kinda depressing sometimes though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 08:12:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 62,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoganSW96/pseuds/infinitelyEnergetic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk Strider is a prostitute. Jake English is in mourning of his mother. Some things that should never be used to bond bring two men closer than they'd ever expected. COMPLETE</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dirk: Get Ready for Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Welcome to my story, Sell Your Soul. This story is highly themed on Dirk Strider and Jake English, but as the tags imply, there are many relationships outside of these beautiful boys.
> 
> You'll notice that the rating on this is Explicit. Sorry to disappoint but le sexy times don't occur until Chapter 12, and this is a long ass story. If that's all you're here for, go ahead and skip to Chapter 12 with the Chapter Index. I really suggest reading the whole thing though, and maybe it's because I'm biased, but I really love this story :3
> 
> Anyway, I'm done wasting your time now. Please enjoy!

Your name is Dirk Strider, and you are a prostitute.

What, were you expecting some long-winded explanation about your social life and job before really getting to the point? A huge reveal, not realizing that it’s Dirk until the end of the chapter? Get over yourself. You sell your dick for cash, can we move on?

You’re expecting a pretty normal night in the house while you’re getting your hair ready for a busy night. It has to last for several hours, and easily fixed between clients if it does get messed up. You’ve realized that the two most important things to ‘prep’ are your hair and your butt; your hair will get their attention, your ass will get their money. Most of the time they’re not even after your ass (you put out a natural aura as a top), but that doesn’t stop them from pulling out their cash.

Is this a tutorial on how to be a successful gay prostitute? No, it’s a goddamn story. Can we move along?

Your first client is in bed within twenty minutes, an impressive time even for you. Your shades stay on the whole time for several reasons; one, you’re running the show so they play your damn rules. Two, they’re basically your defining feature, your trademark in the house. Taking them off while ‘on the job’ removes your memorability, and lessens the chance of recurring clients. It’s just good business.

Jesus Christ enough with the tutorial. You successfully empty the dude’s balls and wallet and return to the ‘prep room’, as Meenah (your ‘pimp’ for lack of a better word) calls it.

“Hyey, Dirk!” Roxy grins as she leans against the doorway, just finishing up with a client of her own. You smile and wave back at her before turning back to the mirror to redo your hair.

“I thought it was against regulation to be intoxicated on the clock, Roxy?” you tease. She rolls her distant eyes and half-slaps your shoulder, sharing your mirror while she attempts to fix her makeup.

“You know that’s bullsheep. Bullshit. You have your shades, I have a martini,” she defends. “It’s just how things work around here.”

“Fair enough. How’s it looking out there?” you ask, earning a sigh from your best friend. Roxy groans and finishes with her lipstick, setting it back down on the table.

“Looking to be a better night for you than me, Dirky. Lotsa gayboys,” she remarks, feigning bitterness while actually relieved for the break. You’re also rather excited by that information; it’s been slow for the male workers recently, too many straight guys wanting a quick shag. It’s annoying, to be honest, and you’ve been scraping the bottom of the barrel for going on three weeks. That’s to say, gross guys wanting cheap oral in the alley, to which you usually agree to and then rinse your mouth out three times. But hey, it’s kept your lights on so far, and that’s what matters.

“Spot anyone watching me?” you inquire.

“Sure have, table nine. Quirky guy, green jacket, real tan. Cute as shit, watching you the whole night. Biggest bottom I’ve ever seen,” she giggles. She thinks back over her words, alcohol-ridden gears in her head still trying to turn. “Wait, I didn’t mean that’s he’s fat. I don’t know anything about his butt except that he hasn’t gotten off it all night. I meant that he’s so nervous to approach you, and he’s like the typical uke I’ve ever seen.”

“Roxy.”

“Hm?”

“Stop talking.”

“Righto.”

You smile at yourself in the mirror, satisfied with your appearance, and turn Roxy by her shoulders. Her stumbling drunkenness has effectively ruined her chance at doing her makeup right, forcing you to take over. And forget whatever the fuck you’re thinking about gay boys knowing their shit about makeup, it’s because you’ve had to help Roxy with her makeup more times than you can even count.

When she looks like the perfect type of whore, you playfully smack her butt as the two of you walk back out into the bar. She makes some comment regarding your sexuality that you can’t hear over the music, so you just nod to make her giggle and scamper off to get laid.

You suddenly realize how disturbing it is that this is normal for you. Eh, whatever. Yolo right?

No fuck that, forget you even mentioned that shit.

Tossing aside those ridiculous thoughts, you decide to take a quick pass by Table 9 to see this mystery man Roxy was so confident you could get to hire you. It doesn’t take much to pick him out of the crowd; his glasses were a dead giveaway that he is not in his natural environment. Huge and rectangular, the lenses slightly dirty from probably being worn for so long tonight. His green jacket is slightly disheveled, a white shirt with some kind of skull on it showing beneath. Roxy’s babbling briefly makes you curious about his butt.

You have the perfect move for guys like him; you made it up a couple of years ago when you first started getting ‘watchers’ as you like to call them. Lean on the bar, lift up your shades, and just look at them for a moment. Wait for eye contact, smirk, and drop them back down. Their reaction decides your next step.

When his eyes finally meet your piercing orange gaze, his face turns noticeably red even from a distance in lowlight. His hands shoot to his lap and his eyes gaze shoots sideways. Roxy was right; the perfect uke. So easy, you think. You lean up off the bar and saunter over to him slowly, waiting for him to notice that you’re coming over. When he does, but doesn’t leave the booth, you return to a normal pace to get to his side.

“…don’t suppose you’ve been watching me for any particular reason, have you?” you smirk. The man’s face burns red again, his eyes resting on the table in front of him. You smile and move to sit down next to him, his uke-instincts making him scoot to give you room. Lean back and pop your neck.

“So what’s your name?” you ask over the loud music. He raises an eyebrow at you, and you have to hold in your triumphant smile. This guy is so gullible! You’re not speaking loud on purpose; the point is to get him alone. He turns his ear to you, so you repeat yourself without changing your volume.

“-fraid I can’t hear you chap!” he exclaims. You raise an eyebrow; is this guy British? Dammit, that’s hot. Now you really don’t want to give this client up. He’s cute anyway, you may as well roll with it.

“Why don’t we go somewhere quiet?” you whisper in his ear, making sure to lower your voice to get his attention. You feel the shivers on his neck from the tiny contact of your cheeks. He nods, and your hand slowly moves to join with his. You don’t even have to look to know that he’s blushing this time; it’s just to be expected. You shoot a quick glance at Meenah, in the back, who watches you lead him upstairs to the room you were given tonight. She winks at you, and you smile as you duck into the hallway.

“Sorry about that, they always play the music too damn loud,” you chuckle. You open the door to the room and gesture for the man to enter. He’s hesitant, but he goes inside and instantly finds his way to the couch. That surprised you, actually. You didn’t think he’d get comfortable so fast. Weird guy.

“I didn’t catch your name earlier,” you remark, not bothering to actually ask. That’s not your style, never has been. Even if you’re dependent on the client for money, you’re always the one in charge. It’s just how shit works around here.

“Oh, it’s uh, Jake,” he stutters. You smile as you confirm his accent as being most certainly English, and you decide that you like it. A lot, really. You have the weirdest thing for accents.

“Jake, eh? I’m Dirk,” you say without smiling. You take your seat next to him and wait for him to say something, to try and get the show on the road. He doesn’t, though, he just knocks his knees together and pops his knuckles a few times. Before things can get awkward, you decide that you’ll do it yourself.

“So what brought you here tonight, Jake?”

“…alcohol, mostly. Some…things I’d rather forget,” he half-laughs, though you pick up right away that it’s forced. You try to think back to the table; did he have a drink there? You don’t think so. In fact, he seems really coherent to be trying to blackout.

“You seem pretty sober if that’s what you were after,” you comment, waiting for the conversation to push forward. He sighs and nods.

“They wouldn’t let me buy.”

Oh shit, you never even bothered to ask how old this guy is. Is he a minor? Meenah’s strict on that shit, you do not screw a minor for so many reasons.

You look him over again, and you’re pretty sure he’s at least eighteen. You’d better find out before you move any further.

“Shit, really? How old are you?”

“Twenty. I don’t turn twenty-one for another two months.”

Oh thank God.

“Shame,” you sigh. “How about this. I’ll go get us each a drink, and I’ll be right back?” You suggest this while your fingers ghost across his thigh, his face flashing red again while you do so. He stammers some sort of a yes while you stand up to leave.

Back down at the bar, you get a couple of cheap drinks thanks to your employee discount (a running joke, really, alcohol here is dirt cheap anyway). Before you can head back, though, Meenah stops you with a shit-eating grin.

“Dayum, you got yourself a cute one didn’t you?” she teases. You shrug, the drinks in your hands sloshing against their glasses. Meenah cackles. “Boy, you’d better be careful with that one. Those weren’t no ‘I’m gonna fuck him and leave’ eyes, they were interested. They thought you were cute, not just hot.”

You roll your eyes and fork over her cut of your first job, the easiest way to shut her up, and head back upstairs to rendezvous with Jake. You’ve still got a job to do, after all.


	2. Dirk: Do Your Job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D oh my gosh! Only one chapter and I already have Kudos, you guys spoil me. Anyway this chapter is from Dirk's perspective again and we get some really cool DirkJake action. So I hope you all enjoy!

You’re still Dirk. Were you expecting a shift in perspective? Nah, maybe next time.

You realize pretty quickly that Jake is a lightweight, slightly tipsy after one drink (you admit that it has a metric fuckton of alcohol in it, but still). He’s slurring his words by the time the empty glass hits the table, shaking slightly and nearly tipping over if not for your intervention. The tanned man giggles and leans back into the couch, sighing.

“I’m really enjoying this, Dirk,” he smiled. You roll your eyes and set down your only half-empty glass. Glad you’re having a good time but I don’t get paid to be a drinking buddy.

“So Jake…” you begin, your hand ghosting over his thigh. The muscles tense under your touch, Jake’s breath catching and deciding to stay inside while he holds his breath nervously. You chuckle and whisper in his ear.

“You know how this works right?” you whisper in a husky voice. He’s frozen for longer than your ego should allow (hey, fuck you you’re good at your job), but soon enough he slowly nods his head. You smile against his neck, and grab his wrist, pulling him over to the bed. You fall backwards and pull the younger man on top of you, your arms already hooked behind his neck.

“I, uh, don’t know how much you charge,” he admitted shakily, his arms shaking as he places them on either side of your head. You chuckle and run a hand against the stubble starting to poke out on the side of his face.

“That depends on what you want,” you say. “We could discuss it later, if you’d prefer.” Jake nods and shakily leans closer to you. You feel your eyebrows raise without meaning to.

Is he going to…kiss you?

Don’t be confused, this isn’t unheard of. But most people keep even the most stimulating of foreplay to a minimum, much preferring you to get in their ass as soon as possible. But kissing is rare, and can mean any number of things. First off, it probably means he’s a virgin, which is rather humiliating on his part given that he’s hiring a prostitute.

He bites his lip before he makes contact, but something’s wrong; you were waiting for that contact. You were waiting for anything aside from the usual pounding, you were waiting for the true intimacy that comes with the merging of lips. You were waiting for someone to care about more than your services, and care about you.

You realize that you’re in the wrong profession to be having those kinds of thoughts, and even you, the jack of your trade, find yourself hesitating to move further.

“…is it okay if I kiss you?” Jake whispers. You swallow once and nod, a nervous smile spreading onto Jake’s face. He leans in close to you, his soft pink lips pressing against yours.

It gets even weirder from there; and by weirder, you mean the lack of weird (because fuck logic that’s why). It’s gentle. No open mouth, no sloppy exchanging of fluids or battle of tongues. Just contentment as he leans deeper into the kiss. You find yourself savoring it, pushing up with your elbows to feel as much of the man on top of you as possible. Muscle memory sends your unoccupied hand (one is keeping you up) to his back, slowly moving up under his shirt, even though you’d rather have left them where they were. The slower your advances, the longer he keeps his warm lips against yours.

The inevitable did arrive though as you felt his length press against your thigh, preparing for the night he’ll be paying for at some point or another. You groan inwardly. Does it really have to end this soon? Oh whatever. You shouldn’t thinking about stuff like this anyway, stop acting like a fucking anime character!

You roll him over, landing on the far side of the bed with you leaning over him. You smirk down at him, your own way of asking if he’s ready for what’s about to happen. He doesn’t look impressed, really, but he does do something that nobody else has; he tries to remove your shades with the one hand that isn’t lingering dangerously close to your ass.

You stop him, though, gently grabbing his wrist and setting it back down on the bed.

“Mind if I keep the shades on?” you plead, still managing to sound confident while you do so. Jake frowns but leans up to kiss you again, this time filled with more passion (but oddly lacking in lust, still), while his hand comes up to pull them off again. You don’t even care this time, really, absorbed in the tongue only probing at your bottom lip. They slide off with you barely noticing, and caring even less.

He breaks it off too soon to look at your eyes. You figure, fuck, may as well give him what he wants, and look down at him with a soft smile.

“I like your eyes,” is all he can say before he kisses you again, this one disappointingly brief. Jake clears his throat and lies back down, his hand falling beside his head on the pillow he didn’t realize he was using.

“Anyway, I suppose we should just, uh, get on with it then,” he half-laughed, scratching the side of his head while he does so. “I’m wasting your time, aren’t I?”

You want to say no, you really do, but you can’t for two reasons. One, he kind of is, despite how much you’ve enjoyed making out with him. And two, it sort of catches in your throat on your way out because of that goofy smile. Seriously, ever hear of an orthodontist? You’d normally tease someone on it (playfully, of course), but on him it’s nothing but endearing.

You were rather content with these thoughts until Jake seemed to muster up the courage and grab your dick.

“A-Ah, Jake,” you half-moan have sputter, surprised by the first confident motion you’re aware that he’s ever made. You smiles and kisses you a little rougher, trying to take some sort of control. Oh, so you think yourself a top, Jake? Think again.

You push him back down semi-gently, smiling against his lips. A small ‘hmph’ is the only indication you need that he’s been defeated, and you quickly lose yourself in the man smiling beneath you.


	3. Jake: Call Jane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the Kudos so far! :) Enjoy Chapter 3!

You are now Jake English. Finally, right? About time we got some goddamn perspective around here.

You lean back in the chair uncomfortably; why does your ass hurt so much? You know damn well what it was used for last night but you didn’t think it would hurt this much. You’re not even sure how it happened; Dirk just had this magnetic aura about him that you couldn’t resist. You’ve never even fancied another boy, yet here you are with your hips throbbing and your head battling for dominance in a ‘who can torture Jakey the most’ contest. If you could be bothered to stand up you might reach a conclusion, but you’re tired and don’t feel like it.

It was beyond awkward when you and Dirk had finished…you know, that. He explained his fee (if not somewhat solemnly, for some reason) and you forked over the cash you’re fortunate to have had. It emptied you out quick, though; he wasn’t cheap. You like to think that it’s a constant rate, not that you were a special case and got ripped off. You also like to think that it wasn’t his decision to charge so much, and the owner of the house was instead the mastermind. You like to think these things, because you really can’t stop thinking about that prostitute.

Immediately after leaving the bar, still sore in the hips despite how gentle he was (for the love of God, how did he even fit), you called up Jane and begged to stay at her place because you didn’t think you could handle walking home. She was a bit peeved to receive a cryptic phone call at two in the morning, but accepted anyway because her nephew was at a friend’s house. You stumbled through her apartment door, and Jane helped you to her couch.

“Jake, are you alright?” she asked, her southern accent ever prominent. “You look awful.”

“Can I sleep first and explain in the morning?” you begged. “My head is pounding and my hips are worse.”

The hips comment confused her, but she accepted regardless and fetched a blanket for you to borrow for the night. You were asleep before she returned, only to awake with it draped over you.

So here you are, your brain pushing its way out and your hips screaming at your brain to shut it the fuck up so it can focus on its own aching. You sip on your coffee a bit (you hear its good for hangovers, you hate being a lightweight), with Jane half-heartedly doing the same on her own cup, waiting for an explanation.

“Jake, we can’t sit here all morning. I have to go to work in two hours, and you have a lot of explaining to do,” she half-teased, winking at you. You smile sheepishly and take another drink of coffee, smacking your lips as the bitter taste warms you up a bit.

“I, uh, had a bit of a rough night,” you understate. Jane simply makes a hand motion for you to continue, which you abide to after a quick sigh. “I was at that bar two blocks down, Peixes.”

“Jake, what in the heavens were you doing in a place like that?” she scolded. “You and I both know that place is shady, not to mention swimming with prostitutes.”

“Hold on Jane, I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“What?”

“Anyway, I was at Peixes. After…what happened, I wanted to get a bit drunk to sort of forget, I guess. Despite the hookers waltzing about, they wouldn’t sell to a minor,” you explain bitterly, still pondering the logic. Legality is obviously not their concern, why even bother monitoring alcohol? Morons.

“So why are you hung over, then?” she inquired, her polite way of telling you to hurry up.

“Someone bought me a drink. A highly alcoholic one, apparently, because I was down after one glass,” you regret admitting immediately after doing so. Jane rolls her eyes with a smile and sets her chin down in her hand, amused by the entire situation so far.

“Ooh, an admirer? Who’s the lovely lady who managed to woo you?”

“His name was Dirk,” you sputtered out quickly, ripping off the metaphorical band-aid and waiting for the judgment. She took it better than you thought she would; at least, not on the outside. Who knows what’s going on in the Crocker noggin. She just sits there with wide eyes and an overall surprised look on her face, trying to determine if you’re serious or not. Which you are, and try to make that apparent by nodding.

“Oh, well then,” is all she says before silently asking you to continue.

You relay the story to Jane, minus the more personal details (those you’ll keep for yourself), all the way from the first kiss until the phone call. You make sure to explain how alluring Dirk was in every way, some sort of subconscious attempt to defend that you're straight. Despite how much your hips are still hurting on my God.

“And then I called you,” you conclude, finally stopping long enough to take the final sip of your coffee and set it down on the table. Jane fidgets in her seat, chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip.

“Well that's...quite the story,” she said hesitantly. “And you're sure you're straight?”

“I...suppose not entirely? I don't know,” you groan. “I've never looked at a boy that way until Dirk.”

“I see,” she said. “Well I wouldn't worry yourself too much about it, dear. If you're really attached, you're sort of in a bad situation. He was a prostitute, Jake.”

You sigh before muttering a quiet “I know...”. You know she's right. Why are you even so upset about, all he did was fuck you for cash! You don't care how much you liked kissing him (and more). You don't care how cute he was, and how bright his orange eyes were. You don't care about any of those things.

You make sure not to say these things out loud. Jane might get the wrong idea.

“You should get home. Don't you need to take Jade to school today?” Jane warns.

FUCK. Today's that stupid parent-teacher thing at school, isn't it? Jane wouldn't have had to remind you if she didn't have to take John herself. You thank her with a quick hug (carefully, remember the hips Jake), and power-walk out the door. Your own apartment really isn't far, and you think you've healed up enough to walk there on your own.

You're nearly in tears by the time you get back. Jade is waiting on the other side of the door, prepped and ready for school and sort of angry looking.

“Where have you been mister?” she yells, the slight remainder of your hangover making itself known.

Your niece can be a bit...overzealous. She's only eleven, a few weeks into the fifth grade, so her tiny little body is still pumped full of energy. She's normally happy, but you've really come to find that she has a temper.

“Sorry, sweetie, I was out late with Jane,” you lie, sparing her the rather mature details. She purses her lip out and kicks you in the shin. “Ow, what was that for?!”

“That was for worrying me! You should have called or something. I didn't know where you were.” Her head drops a bit, breaking any frustration towards her for kicking you, and forcing you to bend down and give her a hug. She buries her face in your shoulder and you think she's close to crying.

“...I'm sorry, Jade. It was a weird night.”

“Is this about grandma?” she asked, still pressed against you. You don't say anything at first; no, you're not ready to talk about that yet. That's why you even ended up at Peixes in the first place.

Because your mother shot herself last week, and yesterday was the funeral.


	4. Dirk: Do a Funny Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry, this chapter took a little longer to put out than I'd thought, but it's here now and I hope you all like it!

You're Jake again. Hah, no Dirk for you, suckers! The chapter title was LIE! You think Dirk would dance?

Jade was wanting to go to school early to meet with a friend of hers, but you had a long night and desperately needed a shower before going to speak with her teacher. You're quite certain you reek of sex, anyway, and quite frankly you're amazed Jade didn't point that out. Or perhaps that was a lack of thinking on the part of the writer because hey, that shit would have been funny.

But maybe he didn't think of it at the time. And maybe he's sorry, alright? Let's get to the fucking school.

You're at the school now, Jade holding fast onto your hand as the two of you step through the main doors. She's babbling on and on about her friend, and how he's super cool and she can't wait for you to meet him. You smile and agree to talk to him, though, but you're not sure how stimulating conversation with a fifth grader will be. But hey, Jade seems to like the guy. You'll give it a shot.

“Dave! Dave, this is my uncle!” she announced happily as she stepped into the room. A tall blond kid in the back (you use the term 'tall' loosely; he's tall compared to the other kids) turns slowly and raises an eyebrow at you. You think he does, anyway. His sunglasses are obstructing most of his face, which you find rather odd. Does the school even allow that? Probably not, but you get the feeling right away that he couldn't give a shit if they don't.

He makes his way over slowly with his hands in his pockets, still not smiling even when Jade throws her arms around him in a huge hug. He sighs and wraps one arm around her, the other still quite content at its home in his pocket.

“Hey, you must be Jake,” he says calmly. You blink a couple times, still not even comprehending that he was speaking to you. You had the weirdest deja vu about...never mind. You nod.

“That's me. Nice to meet you, chap!” you hold your hand out to shake it. The kid instead offers a fist bump, which you find awkward but he seems to, still, not give a shit about. You respond accordingly, lightly tapping your much larger knuckles against his. You notice right away how pale the kid is, just like another certain someone you've recently met. The sunglasses are another disturbing parallel, which you choose to ignore. Like that could ever happen.

(insert dramatic irony here)

You exchange words with Dave for a moment about nothing in particular, only to find that he's...not quite what you expected. He's extremely mature for his age, if not maybe a bit of a brat. He seems to like things done his way, which is fine and all you suppose. You also find out that the kid's got a mouth on him, and you really wonder where he got that kind of language from. Huh.

“Hello, parents and students! My name is Ms. Serket, nice to finally meet you all!” a woman beams as she enters. You turn back to the door to see this teacher you've heard so much about.

Oh dear Lord she's gorgeous.

Her hair is wavy and black as coal, seemingly soft enough to take a nap in. She's wearing a simple blue blouse, and her lipstick is the same shade of blue. She's...oh golly you need a drink of water.

“Well, how about we all get started. I'm going to meet with you all individually, if that's alright. How about we start with you, Mr. English?” she smiled. You swallowed down a bit of saliva and nod, and follow her into the next room.

She sits behind the desk calmly and offers for you to take the one opposite her, which you agree to happily if not somewhat nervously.

“Hello, your name is Jake correct?” she asks, offering a handshake. You nod and shake her hand back (a welcome adjustment to Dave's fist bump). “You can call me Aranea.”

“Aranea? That's quite the name, I like it,” you flirt somewhat obviously. Aranea giggled and set her hands back on her desk, smiling back at you.

“Anyway, I won't take up too much of your time. Jade is an excellent student, by the way,” she comments. You smile, a bit relieved really, glad that she's not too caught up in her friends.

“Well that's good to hear!” you beam.

“However, I do question her...social choices. She only has a couple of friends as far as I can tell, and all of them are boys,” Aranea explained somewhat awkwardly. “While this is fine, I'm worried that she doesn't have any girl friends.”

“Oh I don't think she minds. Jade has always gotten along better with boys,” you smile. “A real heartbreaker, that one.”

“I suppose. However, I do want to mention something about the boy you were speaking with, Dave,” she sighed. “I really probably shouldn't talk about this, but those two may or may not be an 'item'”, she informs you, complete with air quotations. “I know they're only kids and it really doesn't mean much, but that boy is...not the best one she should get so attached to.”

You think that may be a bit harsh of Aranea. How bad can Dave really be? He was a little rude, but you don't think that's reason enough to dispute a budding kiddy relationship. You may not be thrilled with the idea of Jade dating a boy in fifth grade, you're not about to stop her.

She goes on to tell you a little bit about the little blond boy you'd spoken with. He didn't know his parents because his older brother was kicked out as a teenager, and he took Dave with him for reasons she'd never really been able to figure out. His brother doesn't seem like much of a role model, and that rubbed off on Dave a lot apparently.

“I hate to hear that he's had it pretty rough,” you admit solemnly. You can't say you're a fan of Dave, but after that...you can't bring yourself to dislike him either.

“Alright, I shouldn't waste any more of your time,” she apologizes. She stands and you two shake hands again.

“No, it's quite alright,” you grin. You decide not to ask her out at the last second, though. Date your kid's teacher? That'd be so weird, and Jade would never let you hear the end of it. Besides you have enough shit to deal with in that department.

You say goodbye, and thank her for the advice regarding Dave, and head back to the classroom to speak with Jade before you head out.

“Oh, hi Jake!” Jade smiles as you step back into the classroom. She grabs your hand and drags you towards the back of the classroom where Dave was originally at.

“What's gotten into you this time, Jade?” you tease.

“Dave's brother is here, you should meet him too!”

Ah, the infamous bad influence. May as well.

“Bro, that's Jade's uncle,” Dave comments, not bothering to even gesture towards you; you guess he's too cool for that and oh my God.

“Oh my God,” the man groans, shocking you enough to widen your eyes and drop your jaw. Clad in those stupid pointed shades and a My Little Pony t-shirt, he unfolds his arms and holds his glasses up; just to make sure it's you.

And unfortunately, it is. Nice to see you again, Dirk.


	5. Dirk: Follow Jake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long! My laptop is busted and I'm posting this on my Dad's computer (dangerously, might I add; posting yaoi ;-;). Not to mention the fact that I've been writing most of this at school.
> 
> So yeah, that happened. But enjoy!

Hey, you're Dirk again. Weird timing right? We were just thinking about you. We've missed you.

Ow, okay fine, we'll get to the story. Put away your katana, you jackass.

You were expecting it to be Hell when you came to your brother's 'parent-teacher conference day' bullshit. He's probably not the most attentive student, not that he ever bothers to talk about school anyway (that's probably your first sign). The teacher would probably ask about your career, at which point you'd have to lie and say that you're an auto-repair mechanic (not a total lie, you do it on the side sometimes). And worst of all, you'd have to wake up early after a very, excruciatingly long night, thanks to a dork in glasses that you couldn't stop thinking about.

Oh, and did you mention that the dork in question is standing right fucking there? Because it's pretty goddamn important.

“Oh, uhh...” Jake stutters, his face lighting up red like Santa's fat ass. His eyes shoot towards anything but you, settling somewhere between your brother and his niece.

“Hey Jake,” you say casually, dropping your shades back to their usual place. He fidgets awkwardly, which doesn't go unnoticed by your younger brother, who raises a blond eyebrow at you. You glare at him which he can't see, but he knows damn well not to say anything; you've known each other long enough to say that silently, even with your shades on.

“Do you know each other?” Jade asks. You notice Jake tense up instantly, his face somehow burning even brighter than before. You shrug and quickly thing of a way to play it off.

“We met at work,” you say calmly, watching Jake just to see his reaction. His eyebrows get friendly with his hairline as he silences a gasp, shaking his head fast and begging you not to elaborate.

“Oh, alright then,” Dave interrupted, saving you from going further. You silently thank him because you're not sure how much further you could have bullshitted yourself out of that.

“Anyway I need to go,” Jake declared, leaning down quickly and hugging Jade and rushing out of the room.

“I'm going too,” you say. Dave mutters a quiet 'okay', but Jade stomps her foot down.

“But you haven't talked to Ms. Serket!”

“So? I showed up,” you defy. You leave the room as fast as you can and head after Jake.

If you're being totally honest with yourself, you know you shouldn't go anywhere near a former client outside the house. Especially in such close proximity of your brother, who has no idea what your job really is (he thinks you fix cars). And why are you so hung up on him anyway? He was a good client but he was nobody special. He was gentle, and you admit you liked the way he kissed you (and he was fucking good at it). And okay, maybe he had the ass of a Greek God. But why should you bother chasing after him?

You don't really know. But you do it anyway.

“Hey Jake,” you say calmly as soon as you step out of the school. He keeps going after his car, not seeming to keen on slowing down either. You're hit with a bit of both pride and guilt (contradictory you know) as you notice his slight limp, but correct that before you start lingering back on those thoughts. This would be the worst time to get a boner.

“Jake,” you state again, slightly louder and agitated sounding. He's jiggling his keys in the lock now, the keyring full of more keys than he could ever really need. You sigh and speed up a little to stand beside him, but he flinches when you get close.

You take in his features again, this time without the annoying lighting of a shitty bar/room. He's even darker tan than you thought he was, where you could almost question his nationality if you could be bothered to care. His hair isn't the black that you thought it was, but a dark brown. And one fact that you're aware of is that he's built like an athlete, slim and finely muscled, which looks even better when you see sunlight hitting his dark skin.

He sighs before speaking. “Dirk, I...I'm sorry about last night, I shouldn't have done that.”

“Hey, it was my job. It's good to know I'm good at my job, I watched you limp over here,” you tease. Jake's face burns red again (not quite as badly as before but still) and you chuckle. “It was a joke, Jake.”

“Oh...hehe, right,” he chuckles nervously, chewing on his bottom lip (with those chompers wow, forgot about those). “So, uh, any reason you followed me to my car?”

“Not really,” you lie. You really want to hang out with him for some reason. Why? You still really don't fucking know. You still sort of feel like he cared when you were having sex, feel like escaping from thoughtless shags to someone who might give you the time of day or even give you a kiss after you do it (like he did so excellently, those fucking lips).

You really felt that way, though. You should know this all by now; years of selling yourself should have numbed you to anything like this by now. And until now, you'd thought the same thing; but this son of a bitch is fighting tooth and nail to stay in your head and it's starting to get on your nerves. So one date, and you'll see what happens from there. Is that so much to ask?

Well you're a prostitute, so...maybe it is. But damn if you won't try.

“So maybe we can get a drink sometime,” you offer casually. Jake raises both eyebrows back at you, finally turning away from his car and sort of halfway leaning on it.

“A...date?”

“Sort of, I guess. I don't know,” you shrug. It totally is but you're not gonna tell him that. Nah, you'll let him make his own conclusions, see where you go from there.

You are bullshitting your way through this entire thing. When was the last time you had a date? Probably a few months before never. You've never done the whole dating thing, since you were fuck deep in the closet in high school and started 'work' almost immediately after you graduated.

“I, uhh...” he pauses again. “Is that allowed? I mean, dating clients and all?”

“Meenah doesn't give a shit. As long as I'm ready to work.” That's mostly true, you guess. She really likes the idea of you working five days a week, a sixth if you're really hurting for money. She likes the idea of you doing nothing to harm your body because it lowers profitability. She likes these things, but how could she know if you were doing otherwise? You aren't retarded.

“I—look Dirk, last night was...enlightening, but I don't think I like boys really...” He scratches his elbow nervously and starts jiggling his keys nervously, his quiet way of saying that he's about to nope pretty hard.

“Why not? You seemed to enjoy last night well enough.”

“I was drunk!” he defends. “And if you must know I was looking for a distraction. Which you did well enough on, but I don't think...”

“Jake. You're babbling,” you state flatly. He shoots a half hearted glare at you.

“Dirk, please...it makes me uncomfortable, can you just respect that?”

“I'd rather not,” you shrug. His eyes widen a bit as he looks back at you, hardening again into a glare.

“Goodbye, Dirk.” He slips into his truck and slams the door, your groan overshadowed by his engine as he turns it on. You sigh and run a hand through your hair and head back towards your own car. It was stupid anyway, right? You shouldn't have even asked. You should really be thanking Jake, he kept you out of trouble. Going out with a client? Bad news, bad business and who the fuck are you kidding.

Is it this hard for everyone to get a boyfriend? Goddammit.

“Hey bro,” Dave says casually, surprising you. Why the fuck is he leaning on your car?

“Shouldn't you be in school little man?”

“You left. Serket's gonna ask where you are and I won't have an answer. So screw it,” he shrugs. You shrug as well and climb in your car, followed

“Can we go to Taco Bell?”

“Are you kidding me, Dave?” His eyebrows raise as you snap. “Fuck yes we can go to Taco Bell.”

You figure you could use a few pounds of greasy shit to spoil yourself with. Hell, this is your first rejection that you've really had to deal with. People are allowed to be a bit disappointed about shit like this aren't they? You're pretty sure that's a thing.

So you take your younger brother who really should be in school to stuff his face with knock-off Mexican food. You and Dave get your usual orders, five and three hard-shell tacos respectively. You decide to throw in one of those grande nacho things just for good measure.

“So how exactly did you and Jake meet?” your brother asks, balling up the wrapping from his first taco and throwing back onto the tray. You shrug, a brief pause to get your lie straight.

“Car broke down, he took it to my shop. That's it, nothing special.”

“I believed you until you said 'nothing special', Bro,” he chuckled, leaning back in his seat. You groan inwardly; why the fuck is your brother the smartest fifth grader you've ever met. Like seriously? Ugh.

“Seriously bro, what is it?” he asks, actually sounding concerned (though you can’t tell if he’s trying to do it ironically; if so, piss poor job, little man).

“We met at work,” is all you reply, biting into your third taco. You need to stick with that, keep the kid out of this. Not only could he run his mouth about how your job is less than legal, but telling him you like dudes is awkward enough where he’s still so young.

“Not sure what you aren’t telling me, but I won’t stop bugging you until you tell me what it is,” Dave claims. You groan and sit back, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Dave I don’t know what you want. Can we just leave it be?”

“What are you getting so worked up about?” Dave smirks. “Hiding something?”

“Dave. Shut your fucking mouth,” you snap. Dave’s smirk drops off, turning back to his mostly-finished meal. You push your remaining two tacos away, appetite ruined by your brother’s incessant nagging.

“…sorry Bro,” he whispers. You stand up and dump your tray into the garbage and head towards the car.

The drive home is dead silent. Dave keeps pushing his shades back up while he’s looking out the window, legs curled up against the dashboard and knees close to his face. Your hands are tight on the wheel; you don’t want to talk to him either.

What are you even supposed to say? You can’t tell your brother what you really do, but he’s starting to figure it out that you aren’t actually a full-time mechanic. You’re a full-time whore, you don’t know what you’re supposed to say. Your only hope is to keep denying it until he gets bored and gives up.

“Bro, what does gay mean?”

Oh bloody fuck.

“Why do you ask?” you gulp.

“I heard someone call you that at school because of your MLP shirt,” he grumbles, his feet dropping back to the floor. You swallow nervously and for no reason, your mouth way too dry for it to have even mattered.

“My Little Pony is not gay,” you defend, more to yourself than to Dave. You shake your head and look back at your brother. “Anyway, why do you care?”

“I don’t know…it just sort of seemed like it was an insult,” he muses. “So what does it mean?”

“Oh, that,” you stall. You shift in your seat uneasily. “It’s when a guy doesn’t like girls, he likes other guys. Or a girl likes other girls instead of guys.”

“Seriously? That’s a thing?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you. You nod, thankful for your shades being where they are. “Huh. That’s weird.”

“It’s not weird, tons of people are like that,” you explain. Dave shrugs and turns back to the road, seemingly satisfied. You both sink back into the familiar silence for a few more miles.

“So are you gay?”

You nearly crash the car.

“What? Why would you think that?”

“I’m just wondering. I mean, you were talking to Jake, I’ve never seen you go out with any girls…”

FUCK. Seriously, how smart is this kid? You should be proud of yourself for raising him but now it’s starting to bite you in the ass.

“What’s your sudden interest in the topic, huh Dave?” you tease, desperate to change the subject. “Having thoughts about Karkat? Do you have something to tell me?”

“Ew! God no, no fuck that,” screeches Dave, nearly gagging from the thought. “I just…I don’t know, it’s weird. I never realized that was a thing.”

You slip back into silence for a while, nearing your apartment. Dave watches you expectantly as you pull into the parking lot, turning off the car and sighing.

“I don’t know what you want to hear, Dave,” you sigh and begin to step out of the car. Dave does so as well quickly, walking quickly around the front of the car and stopping you in front of your door.

“A yes or no would be nice,” he snaps. You frown down at your brother, whose confidence fails to waver despite your hopes.

Would it be so bad to tell him? He couldn’t give a shit one way or another. And it’s not like you’ve been making leaps and bounds to avoid telling him, he’s just never asked.

Then again, as smart as he is, could you trust a fifth grader to keep his mouth shut? You don’t want people calling your apartment, or banging on your door. You especially don’t want Dave catching shit about it at school. So what do you do?

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll go ask Jake what made him so awkward around you.”

“No!” you yelp out accidentally. Dave smirks up at you, and it takes every ounce of self-control in your body not to punch the little snot in the mouth. “Don’t…don’t talk to Jake, alright?”

“So start talking.”

You groan outwardly, heading towards the door to your apartment. You know you’re in for a long day.


	6. Jake: Get Some Pie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm not dead! I'm sorry I stopped writing this for a while, I just lost all inspiration. But fear not, it has been found again :D
> 
> So this one is about Jake, and I'm introducing another pairing. Enjoy!

You’re Jake English again. You’re going to skip the amusing quips at the beginning because we’ve got a lot of shit to cover, alright?

You sped home pretty fucking quick after your awkward conversation with Dirk. Did he seriously just ask you out?! He’s a PROSTITUTE! Why would he even bother, weren’t you just another quick fuck? He took your money, isn’t that good enough?!

You spend most of the day mulling it over, busying yourself with the trivial chores that have piled up over the last few days. You’re behind on laundry and the sink is overflowing with dishes, and you desperately need to vacuum because your dog sheds like nobody’s business. Bec, the dog in question, barks from the corner of the room, white fur shaking a bit as he stands to run to your side. You try to ignore him while he rubs against your leg, begging for attention (and the last shred of leftover steak in the fridge; yeah, he still remembers). You eventually sigh and bend over to scratch behind the canine’s ear, soon after giving in and scraping the last bit of steak into his bowl with a fork. He barks happily and begins his feast.

What are you going to do about Dirk? You can’t stop thinking about him and it’s starting to piss you off. You need to stop thinking about him. About…everything regarding him.

Your hips still hurt.

You need to watch some movies. Particularly, some movies with blue ladies in it. You swipe X-Men First Class and Avatar from the shelf, popping the former into your PS3 first.

Mystique is a personal favorite of your lovely blue ladies, simply because she doesn’t have to be blue all the time. She volunteers to be that awesome color, which makes you like her even more. Not to mention that Jennifer Lawrence is drop dead sexy.

So why is the movie boring you? You like the plot, you like the characters. You still look at Mystique and realize that she’s gorgeous.

But you’re still thinking about Dirk. You stop the movie halfway through and switch over to Avatar.

Oh you love this one. Easily one of your favorite movies of all time, simply because nearly all the ladies are blue. And even the ones that aren’t, like the lovely Sigourney Weaver (a personal favorite as far as actresses go) are still fantastic. You really like the dragons.

But man, you still can’t focus. You’re drifting off halfway through, and decide that you’re not going to make it through the day anytime soon by just thinking all day. You pester one of your closest friends.

golgothasTerror [GT] began pestering twinsArmageddons [TA]

GT: Hello, Sollux!  
TA: jake? what are you doiing?  
GT: Just pestering a fellow! Is that a crime now?  
TA: no, iit2 ju2t   
TA: random, ii gue22? youve never been the fiir2t to pe2ter me   
GT: Really? I'm sure i have at some point!   
TA: not really no   
TA: anyway, what2 up?   
GT: well really i sort of need to talk to you   
GT: can we do lunch? maybe meet at Jane’s in an hour or so?   
TA: ii gue22 2o, but ii dont know why youre beiing 2o weiird   
TA: jane2 iin an hour?   
GT: thanks, sollux!   
GT: also, would you mind bring eridan along?   
TA: you mean you want two 2pend tiime wiith me and my boyfriend   
TA: are you 2iick, englii2h? you never want two hang out wiith ED   
GT: i know, but…its sort of important, alright? :/   
TA: whatever you 2ay   
TA: hell be there   
GT: thanks, pal!

golgothasTerror [GT[ ceased pestering twinsArmageddons [TA]

GT: weiirdo

Super! You have gay friends, maybe they have some advice as to what you should do in this situation. They are the experts after all!

You spend a little time getting ready; shower (which needs cleaned too, you realize), bathroom, clothes. You settle for something simple, a plain gray shirt and some more cargo shorts. You slip on your sneakers and head out.

You’re silently thanking whatever Gods are watching as you head towards Jane’s bakery, because the aching in your hips has faded away almost entirely. You guess you worked it out or something what with all the moving you’ve done since the ‘incident’. You really hope that Sollux doesn’t recognize what your limp looks like by the time you meet him, for two reasons; one, you’d be totally humiliated, and you don’t want to think about how familiar Sollux might be with seeing that kind of limp.

Seated in Jane’s tiny hole-in-the-wall bakery, you notice that your friend isn’t at the counter when you step inside. You shrug and take your seat in your usual booth, screwing around on your phone while waiting for Sollux and Eridan.

Not soon after you finish your sixth game of Doodle Jump (not too long really, you’re terrible at that game), you see Eridan and Sollux enter the store, hands clasped with the other’s. Your lips curl into a smile slightly; you have to admit, they’re cute together.

“Hey, guys!” you grin, waving them over to your table.

“It’s not like you have to show us where you’re sittin, Jake. You never sit anywhere else,” Eridan taunts as he slides into the window seat.

“Yeah…nice to see you too, Eridan,” you fake-smile. You really admit to not liking Eridan all that much, but talking to the pair of them should be more beneficial than just Sollux.

“So what is this about, Jake?” Sollux asks, lisp apparent as ever. Your face starts heating up as you try to think of how to start your story.

“Yea, and why did I have to come?” Eridan interjects, apparently cranky.

“Oh shut up, ED. You got plenty of sleep, I don’t know why you’re so cranky.”

“Nyeh.”

“Guys!” you interrupt, a little louder than was probably necessary. They both raise an eyebrow each at you, surprised and not really caring. “Seriously, how do you two not kill each other?”

“A lotta sex, mostly,” Eridan says flatly. Sollux smacks him in the back of the head, receiving yet another ‘nyeh’ from the older of the two.

“So Jake, what was it you need to talk about? You were annoyingly cryptic earlier,” he says flatly, taking a sip from the bottled water he brought in. You sigh and start relaying your story.

You take careful notes of their expressions while you tell your story, particularly Eridan’s (Sollux doesn’t react, but Eridan is hilariously expressive). Reaching the ‘sex’ part evoked the funniest reaction from the Aquarius, as he oooohed as if reaching a huge plot twist in the story. You skipped out on your Mom’s death; you didn’t want to think about it. You started from the bar.

“And then I saw him again at Jade’s school,” you slow down, reaching the end of your tale. “Apparently she’s friends with Dirk’s younger brother, and then he followed me to my car. He asked me out on a date, but I just kind of left.”

You’re practically whispering by the time you reach the end, guilt overwhelming you. Did you really just leave him hanging like that? You feel like a complete jackass. He was very polite when he asked you out, you could have at least explained your reasoning a bit better. But instead, you stormed out like a derp.

“That was pretty rude of you, English,” Sollux sighs, crushing his water bottle and tossing it into the can behind him. “You could at least indulge the guy.”

“But if I don’t—”

“If ya didn’t feel anythin, you wouldn’t be confused enough to ask for advice,” Eridan comments. You set your jaw and look down at your lap. You need to think for a minute.

What do you feel for Dirk? You’ve never fancied a boy the way you do him. Gosh, you’ve never fancied boy at all. What’s different about him? What’s changed?

You need to talk to Dirk. You just don’t know how.

“So what’s your plan, English?” Sollux inquires, a smirk playing on his lips in genuine interest.

“I don’t even know…” you groan, practically slamming your head into the table. Eridan rolls his eyes and pats the back of your head in sarcastic comfort. You sit back when a little boy runs up with a notepad in hand, smiling.

“What can I get for ya?”

“Hey there, John! Working with Janey today, huh?” you inquire playfully. John nods happily and points back into the bakery.

“She’s busy right now. But I can get you whatever you need!”

“Can you get me the hell outa here?” Eridan teases, receiving a smack on the back of the head from Sollux.

“I’ll take a Coke, please,” you ask nicely. John smiles, and writes down Sollux’s thprite (you mean Sprite) and Eridan’s wwater (you mean water).

The three of you sip on your drinks quietly, all of you caught up in your own thoughts. What are you going to do about Dirk?

“So what are you gonna do?”

Goddammit Sollux, you’re still thinking about it.

“I have one idea,” Eridan offers quietly, sipping on his water a bit. You raise an eyebrow at him. “Well, you should just make him talk to you. Maybe you could just go hire him again?”

The three of you halfway toy with the idea for a few minutes while waiting for John to come and finish taking your order. Is hiring him a good idea after what happened last night? It just seems self-destructive.

Sollux’s phone beeps, surprising him a bit and slipping it out of his back pocket. He scrolls through a few texts and is surprised by one message, his eyebrows raising.

“Wait, Jake, which bar was it again?”

“Peixes. Why?”

“I totally forgot that I’ve got a contact there,” he chuckles, showing you his screen. On it is a picture of a girl, probably about a year younger than you, with goggles on her head. She’s at a water park of some sort, and she’s beaming up at the camera happily.

“Who’s that?”

“This is Feferi, a girl I used to date in High School,” he begins. “We still keep in touch, and her cousin runs the place. We could talk to her.”

John returns with a few slices of your favorite pie and sets a slice in front of each of you, apparently aware of what we were going to order before we could do so. You thank him politely and told him to tell Jane that you said hi.

“So you think we could get in and talk to Feferi’s cousin, and then get to talk to Dirk?” you beam. Sollux shrugs and returns his phone face-down on the table. You pick up your drink and swirl it in your hand a little, and drain the remaining soda from between the ice cubes.

“It’s something. Can Feferi meet me there in half an hour?” you ask.

“Probably. She doesn’t live far from here at all.”

You thank them both before grabbing your keys and heading out the door. John calls after you as you quickly run towards your truck, and it’s not until you’re halfway there that you realize that you never paid the check.


	7. Dirk: Go to Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Chapter 7 is here. I added major Strider family feels, and sadly there isn't any DirkJake to show for this time around...but it's coming. Just you wait! Sorry it's sort of short, too :(

Welcome back to the mind of Dirk Strider.

You groan as you get ready for work today, remnants of this morning are still lingering in the back of your mind. Between getting rejected and the bowel movements caused by shoveling down more greasy food than you’ve allowed yourself to eat in weeks, you could definitely be feeling better.

And then there’s Dave.

How did you even manage to break it smoothly? You were hoping that the whole gay thing would help him get over it, but then he kept fucking asking about Jake. When did you meet, when did you two get on a first-name basis, etc. etc. It was a gigantic pain in your ass and even you could only take it so far.

He didn’t give a fuck if you liked guys. Hell, he called you out on it. He proceeds to tell you that your Karkat joke wasn’t far off base; no, Dave doesn’t like Karkat. But he thinks John might, which you think is adorable. You ship a bit of Shota, you’d admit it. Not in a weird way, though.

So you told him that you were a prostitute.

“A… _what_?” he asked.

“A prostitute,” you choked out, shame smacking you straight across the cheek. “I have sex, and they pay me for it.”

“Grooooooosssssssss,” he whined, laying back on the couch. You’re glad he didn’t ask what sex is, because you’re positive you wouldn’t have been able to get through that without laughing.

“So Bro, how long have you been doing…you know, that?” he inquired. You rubbed the back of your neck, trying to pinpoint a guess. How long has it been? Pretty soon after you got kicked out, you’re positive of that. Five years, six? Maybe more, but you’re not really sure.

“Basically…after we stopped living with Mom and Dad,” you admitted. Dave’s eyebrows rose.

“Why did we ever stop living with them?”

You never explained it all to Dave. You told him a couple of bullshit lies; you were old enough to live alone, they wanted to travel, Dave wouldn’t respect them. Stupid stuff, but it was always about you. They’re religious, you’re not, you’re gay, they hated it. So they didn’t care enough to take care of you once you told them.

How old even were you? Seventh grade or so, you think. You’ve never been good with dates. Your mom balled her eyes out and your dad was pissed. He beat your ass for a good hour or so, left you there. You didn’t talk to them for weeks.

Things settled down for a while after that. Discussions were had, and you guess your dad sort of came around? But your mom, Jesus Christ your mom. She took your old man’s spot, and then _she_ was the angry one.

You were in an apartment by your Junior year, and Dave came with you. You can’t say you were disappointed that they made you take Dave, but you weren’t thrilled with your mother’s reasoning. “He’s too much like his brother…he’ll come out the same way!” she had yelled. Dave was too young when it happened; only five. He was still wearing your pointy shades before that Egbert kid got him the ones he’s still wearing.

You haven’t thought about this stuff in so long…and you’re positive that you haven’t missed these emotions you’re feeling.

“Another time, okay kid?” you half-whisper. You feel Dave’s eyes on you as you walk back through the apartment and to your room. You locked yourself inside to be alone for a couple hours.

So now you’re here, skinny jeans partially unzipped and the button hanging slightly to the right. Your shirt is cut high but with a low V-neck, revealing your bellybutton and the small trail of blond hair leading down into your pants (where you hope to attract a few customers tonight, _if ya know what I mean_ ).

Properly primped (pimped…hehe), you exit the prep room and into the main part of the bar, where a few potential customers are surely starting to straggle in.

You think this is why you like working in a house with Meenah. Most everyone knows why Peixes is there, so everyone is a potential customer. Of course, there are always the out-of-towners that are rather surprised when they find out, but nobody has ever squealed, luckily. But you can pick out the regulars, who they hire, and help the girls (and the other couple of guys, but there’s only two besides you).

Speaking of Meenah, she’s leaning against the bar and sipping on a beer. You raise your chin in a slight nod, and she grins that toothy smile and gestures for you to come over. As you approach, she reaches behind and swipes another beer for you. You thank her silently and break the cap off on the counter and take a long drink.

“What’s up, Meenah?” you ask, smiling and taking another sip. You never drink beer, but you think it’s nice when you do.

“Little birdy told me that you’ve got a crush, huh?” Meenah teases, raising a delicately plucked eyebrow at you. The beer catches in your throat and you sputter a little, retrieving a cackle from the woman.

“Where on earth did you hear that?” you ask, wiping away the bit of beer that gathers on your chin. You set your beer down on the counter and let your eyes wander back to the bar for a moment, noticing that more and more customers are slowly lingering in. Roxy is already on the floor, flirting it up with an Asian man you don’t think you’ve ever seen before.

“My cousin came in a few hours ago with her ex-boyfriend, Sollux something-or-other,” she dismisses, uncaring of the boy. “What interested me is the guy that came in with them. That boy you were with yesterday, with the glasses.”

Oh fuck. Jake was _here_!? Why was he here?

“Oh, really?” you reply, feigning disinterest. You feel your ears perk up at his mentioning, but you simply push your shades higher on your face and look out into the bar. Your eyes sweep over the area, unseeing, as your attention is focused on the woman at your side.

“Mhm. The dorky guy with the glasses, Jack—”

“Jake,” you interrupt, cringing slightly as you realize what you did. Meenah smirks a bit, taking a tiny sip of beer before dropping the empty bottle into the garbage with a low crash (the fucking bottle broke).

“Jake,” she corrects with a sly smile. “…said he wanted to talk to you. He left you this.” Meenah hands you a ripped piece of paper folded in half (you recognize this as one of the bar’s napkins). You open it up, and see two Pesterchum handles written; one in green, one in yellow. Somehow, you just know that the green one is Jake’s.

Written below the yellow handle, in the same ink, is written “pe2ter me fiir2t. You don’t get what’s up with the two’s, but whatever.

“Now, I don’t know what’s going on between you and this Jake guy, Dirk,” she comments, her hands crossing behind her head. “But you know my policy about dating. I don’t want you to work if you have someone.” She pause, waiting for a reaction that she knows you aren’t going to give. “ _Do_ you have someone, Dirk?”

“…no,” you answer after a brief pause. You tuck the napkin into your back pocket, safe for later.

“…well alright then. I won’t argue with you,” she decides, shrugging. “Anyway, it’s gonna be busy tonight. Get out there big guy.” Meenah pats your shoulder with a gentle smile (which you get very few of, you realize), and steps into her office and closes the door.

You groan and brush your hand across the pocket with the napkin, a tiny smile finding itself on your face. Tonight won’t be so bad, you think.

…

It was a longer night than you’d expected. You don’t get out of there until nearly three in the morning, and your entire body is sore when you finally stumble out of the bar with cash tucked into your back pocket, along with the now-rumpled napkin (discarding your pants several times didn’t do it well). Walking home takes another twenty minutes and it’s not even far away…you’re just tired.

You think about Jake again. Did he have to walk home like this that night? Or did he drive? Most people don’t drive to Peixes because it’s in a shady area, preferring to keep their cars at home where they’re safe. Jake seems like he’s smart enough to do the same. And you feel _worse_ for him, because you’ll admit to yourself that you didn’t hold back.

God, you can’t stop thinking about him. You’re going to go insane if you don’t get some closure.

It’s almost four in the morning by the time you stumble in the door, groaning and closing the door quietly behind you. You need a shower, but the bathroom is right beside Dave’s room and he has school in the morning. You’ll just sleep on the couch, it’s closer—

You turn to see Dave sitting up on the couch, dead asleep, with his head hanging to the side. His shades have been discarded on the couch as well, his mouth slightly agape. He must have been waiting for you to come home and fallen asleep.

“Dave…” you mumble to yourself, unconsciously moving closer to him and removing your own glasses. You set them on the counter and grab Dave’s shades before scooping the kid into your arms. He mumbles a little, and his eyes open slowly to reveal the bright red irises.

“Bro…” he mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep. “You didn’t come home…I was worried.”

“I’m alright, Dave. Just a late night,” you admit softly, taking note of how much heavier Dave has gotten. He’s still thin, so thin…but he’s growing up on you. You wonder what your parents would think if they saw him now.

“You look like a whore,” he tells you, chuckling a little and effectively ruining the moment. You look down and realize that you still haven’t buttoned your pants and you have gross little remnants of another man lingering on your stomach. You frown and hold him a little higher, and away from the dried substance.

“…I am a whore,” you whisper so quietly, you’re not even sure Dave heard you. You think he’s asleep again, anyway. You lay him down in his room, tucking the blanket over him. He’s still in the clothes he wore to school today, the little shit; you let it slide. You smile down at him before turning to exit the room.

You almost grab your laptop from your room to pester that one guy with the yellow ink, but decide against it. It’s four in the morning and you doubt that he’d be on anyway. Plus, you really just need some sleep. You curl up on the couch and put your shades back on, blocking the city lights lingering in through your window.

You dream of Jake, and wake up terrified to Pester him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is going to be the first of one of my 'special' chapters, where the POV is from neither Dirk nor Jake. I wanted to go into more detail about some of the other couples that have been established, and these chapters will do just that. For my friend Tony, you shall be very excited by the next update.
> 
> Anyway, thank you all so much for reading! Please leave Kudos and comment - for they inspire me to do the writey thing. Happy reading!


	8. Sollux: Pester Dirk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I pretty much explained my concept of this chapter in the end note of Chapter 7 and I don't feel like typing it again, so if you didn't read it, this may be a bit of a surprise because this chapter is ERISOL!! I've been having some major feels about these bbys and I couldn't resist introducing some more humanstuck!Trolls.
> 
> I also made a point to move the DirkJake plot a little further, so here you go!

Your name is Sollux Captor, and you’re pretty upset with a certain prostitute right now.

You could name any number of reasons as to why you’re upset with a certain Dirk Strider. His profession is shameful, and he’s causing Jake’s current state of distress. But more than anything…

_He won’t fucking get online._

You expected a late night, that much is true. He’s a night owl when it comes to work, so you stayed up late. You waited. You went through ninety percent of a bag of Doritos and three hours of Eridan’s bitching before he finally fell asleep (he’s not used to staying up as late as you are). You finally closed your laptop and gave up at about four in the morning, curling up next to Eridan.

You didn’t expect him to wake up; usually it takes a fucking stampede to wake him up. But his half-lidded eyes greeted you, chocolate brown and still foggy from sleep.

“Hey Sol…what time is it?” he asks, rubbing his eye lazily.

“About four. He never got online,” you groan, sliding under the blanket and pecking him on the lips quickly. He groaned and cuddled into your chest, his nose pressing against the fabric of your shirt.

“Just forget about it, Sol. Let Jake deal with it,” he suggests, his arm finding its way around your waist. You sigh and rest your chin in his streaked hair, feeling his breathing. You like sleepy Eridan because he’s way less talkative, and more like a normal person. Not that you dislike regular Eridan, it’s just that he’s sort of a handful.

“I can’t just leave this be, ED,” you tell him, sighing. “He’s helped me with a lot. He helped me after my breakup with Fef, and meeting you.”

Hoping for a response, you’re greeted by his even, steady breaths, and you know he’s fallen asleep. You resist the urge to thump him in the back of the head as you bury your face in his hair and finally drift off to sleep.

…

As you said before, Eridan isn’t used to staying up very late at night. That’s because he’s an early riser. Keep in mind, a morning person and an early riser are not at all the same thing. He can’t help but grumble under his breath when he rolls over, nearly falling out of bed if not for catching himself on the nightstand.

You don’t want to be awake this early. You were up too damn late. But you’re hoping that Dirk is also an early riser, and maybe even online. You drag yourself out of bed and lazily run through your shower (shooting down Eridan’s requests to join you…you’re too tired for this shit). You kiss Eridan at the door when he goes to work, and the flop down on your bed again.

You have nothing to do today except for talking to Dirk and trying to sort this whole mess out. You flip open your laptop and log onto Pesterchum.

Unfortunately, Dirk is indeed not online. Jake is but you don’t really feel like talking to him until you’ve spoken with Dirk. Your only other chum online is your older brother (meaning Latula; your brother can’t really use a computer anymore). You like Latula, she’s been dating your brother for years, but you really don’t feel like getting into a conversation about how rad her skateboard is.

So you wait. And wait. But Dirk doesn’t come online, and you’re starting to get frustrated. So you keep waiting. You play Tetris for two hours, getting as high as level 55 (a personal best). You watch a few episodes of The Walking Dead. You take a nap, even, because you’re still exhausted and he _still isn’t online_.

Then, finally, at six in the evening, a little orange name (provided by Meenah) lights up on your computer. You smirk, silently thanking whoever finally convinced him to get online. You decide to take the initiative and pester him first.

twinArmageddons [TA] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

TA: 2o youre fiinally onliine  
TT: Yeah, I'm here.  
TT: Who even is this?  
TA: my name ii2 2ollux, iim a friiend of jake2  
TT: I figured as much. So you're the one who brought him to Peixes?  
TA: ye2, that wa2 me  
TT: Dare I ask why?  
TA: he wanted two talk two you, 2o ii had two help hiim out  
TA: my ex giirlfriiend2 cou2iin run2 that place you work at  
TT: Alrighty then...  
TT: So why did I pester you first?  
TA: ii ju2t want two make 2omethiing abundantly clear about jake englii2h  
TA: he ii2 really 2tupiid, okay  
TA: liike not iin a 2tudyiing way  
TA: the guy ju2t ha2 no common 2en2e  
TT: I sort of gathered that...'  
TA: iim not done  
TA: he ha2 no iidea what he want2, diirk and hone2tly he probably wont for a long tiime  
TA: 2o whatever happen2 between you two, ju2t let hiim 2et the pace  
TT: You think something will happen between us?  
TA: oh no doubt  
TA: ii mean one way or another, jake ii2nt goiing two leave thii2 alone  
TA: whether or not iit goe2 well ii2 up two you  
TT: Alright.  
TA: pe2ter hiim whenever youre ready, iit doe2nt have two be iimmediiately  
TA: iin fact ii thiink he2 waiitiing for you two pe2ter hiim, but iin my personal opiiniion...  
TA: iid giive hiim 2ome tiime  
TT: Okay...  
TA: one la2t warniing  
TT: Ugh what?  
TA: jake come2 two me about everythiing  
TA: 2o watch your2elf, 2triider  
TT: ...  
TT: Okay.  
TT: I might pester you later when I come to some sort of a decision.  
TA: okay  
TA: good luck wiith iit, diirk

timeausTestified [TT] ceased pestering twinArmageddons [TA]

You sigh with relief and shut your laptop, done with the thing. You said what you had to say, and you’re done with it. You just hope he doesn’t totally botch it with Jake. You care about the little idiot.

The door to the apartment opened slowly as Eridan finally comes home, right on time for you to finish up with Dirk. You smile to yourself and walk out of your room, greeting him in the hallway. You can’t help but let your breath hitch when you see him, oh sweet Jesus.

He works at the YMCA in your area as a lifeguard. His pay is minimal but he just likes the water, and it gives you a chance to see him regularly in nothing but swimming trunks, so it works in your favor anyway.

“Hey Sol, get everything squared away?” he asks, pulling you close and pushing his nose against yours. You smile and nod, before looking down at yourself. You put your pajamas back on after your shower and have basically been stewing in yesterday’s filth.

“Hey ED, you wanna go somewhere?” you ask. Eridan raises an eyebrow at you; you _never_ ask him to go out. In fact, he usually has to drag you out of the house. But today you’re feeling restless and if you sit in this place for one more minute, you’re going to go insane.

“Yeah, sure, Sol! What do you have in mind?” he asks, bouncing a little as he asks. You smile at him and shrug, turning back towards your shared room.

“I got some ideas. Let me change and we’ll go.”

Your idea is very simple; you and Eridan haven’t had a date in ages, and you’ve never been one for the whole ‘dinner and movie’ thing (too simple). So you shoot a quick text to some of your friends and ask them to meet you at the bowling alley. You suck at bowling, but you know Eridan loves it.

He’s still asking what your plan is when you sit down in the car, and it doesn’t stop until you pull into the parking lot, where he bounces a few times in his seat and then practically drags you to the front door, where your friends are already waiting for you.

Eridan is surprised to be greeted by Feferi, Gamzee, Vriska, Terezi, and Tavros. It’s almost funny how this entire situation with Jake has made your brain work; immediately you see something brewing between Tavros, Gamzee and Vriska. Tavros keeps looking up at Vriska from his wheelchair, and Gamzee keeps looking down at Tavros. Vriska keeps looking at her own reflection in the front camera of her phone, while Terezi is looking the other way. Feferi is the first to run forward and hug you, and then Eridan.

“Gosh, I haven’t seen you two in AGES and now I get to see you twice, Sollux?” she squeals, hugging you again. You smile and wrap your arm around her waist, hugging her back.

Hugs go around and words are exchanged, brief catch-ups and basic small talk. Apparently Terezi has finally been certified as a lawyer and Tavros is soon to undergo surgery to try and fix paralysis. Gamzee kicked his habit enough to where it’s only an occasional hobby, as opposed to ‘all day every mother fuckin day’. Vriska is basically the same, which doesn’t surprise you in the least.

“Okay, we should go inside!” Terezi suggests. The rest of you nod collectively and head into the bowling alley.

You’re pretty sure this bowling alley is close to going out of business, because this place never seems to have business. The only regulars you ever see are these guys in the back who constantly play poker, and never seem to really bowl. Only one lane is in use out of six.

You all rent your shoes with the exception of Tavros for obvious reasons. You almost comment on Gamzee’s absurdly large shoes (something about clown shoes, but you choose to keep that one to yourself). Vriska brought her own, which makes you sort of suspicious of how good she is at bowling.

You change into the gross, overly used shoes and select your lane. Tavros rolls up and mans the console and types all of your names in, throwing in our typing quirks on Pesterchum just to be a smartass. The screen is as follows:  
GaMzEe  
2ollux  
eRIDAN  
F—Ef—Eri  
Vrisk8  
T3R3Z1  
Since Eridan’s didn’t apply to his name, you guess he decided to insert his own.

You’re second, which you find as pretty ironic and you’re almost positive Tavros did that on purpose given the shit-eating smile he shoots you after typing it in. Vriska sets down her bag (which you guess she’s captchalogued earlier if the broken shards of an 8-ball is any indication), which you then recognize to be a bowling bag.

“What’s that, Vris?” Eridan asks.

“My bowling bag, oooooooobviously! I can’t just come unprepared like _you_ losers,” she teases, reaching inside. The draws a custom-made bowling ball, predictably decorated as an 8-ball.

“Seriously?” you chuckle, receiving a glare (not like a regular Vriska glare…more toned down and uncaring).

“I’m a former league champion. You noobs are going down,” she smirks, setting the ball in the tray thing and taking a seat on the bench. You sigh and take a seat next to Eridan on the bench, who throws his arm over your shoulder in the most stereotypical way possible (he even yawned Jesus Christ).

The game started with a pretty big surprise, because it wasn’t until now that you realized Gamzee can bowl like a fucking boss. He nailed a strike on his first try and walked off like he didn’t give a fuck (which he probably didn’t, you think he’s high again).

You go up, and pretty much everything goes as expected. The ball you picked is too heavy but Vriska’s going to make fun of you if you put it back for a lighter one (plus it’s yellow, so…). You manage to get it down the lane without guttering it, but you still only knock down six pins by the time it’s Eridan’s turn.

Eridan gets a spare, which impresses you because he’s usually not that good either. You think he might actually be able to keep up with Gamzee if he tries hard enough, but he seems more willing to shove his tongue down your throat while Feferi goes, earning a proper smack on the back of the head. Feferi gets nine, and then Vriska gets up.

She takes a minute setting up her shot, receiving a chant of the Jeopardy theme from the rest of us (only Tavros stops at her glare, the poor guy). When she finally bowls, though, it’s a perfect strike to match Gamzee.

Terezi is the last to go, and Vriska gets her lined up with the right lane. She knows she got a gutter ball by the sound, but we clapped anyway and received the finger in return. Terezi ends up cackling and returning to her seat and eating some shitty, overpriced nachos.

The game tends to follow a pretty regular pattern. Gamzee would have easily kept up with Vriska if he weren’t rolling Tavros out every other turn to let him try, getting a gutter ball almost every time (except for one lucky strike, which amazed everyone). You were terrible, Eridan was average, Feferi would gutter every now and then and adorably jump up and down in frustration, her cheeks puffed out like a blowfish. Vriska kept getting 7/10 splits because she can only ever hit eight pins, and then gets both of them perfectly (you’re starting to think that it’s on purpose). And Terezi only hits eighteen pins in the entire first game.

Vriska won, predictably, since Gamzee kept giving his turns away to Tavros. You can’t help yourself but to shoot Gamzee knowing smiles every now and then, watching him divert his eyes and noticing the blush on his cheeks, even though his ridiculous face paint should cover that up.

They start another game, but you and Eridan decide to sit this one out. Tavros insists that if Gamzee wants to roll Tavros out there all the time that he be put on the board in your place, and that they put up the gutter guards. Terezi agrees whole-heartedly, and you all laugh and put Tavros on the board.

You run the computer for the next round, allowing Tavros to pick out a ball while the others go. He ends up settling for a surprisingly heavy ball that made Vriska cackle, and thanks to the gutter guards he got seven pins out. The next time he bowled he got 8, meriting applause from the Serket.

This round goes with Gamzee and Vriska tying for the win, Feferi in second, and Terezi and Tavros tied for third (a seriously weird turnout). Eridan jumps in for the third round while you continue to just watch, and enjoy the show.

Vriska and Gamzee tie again, to which Gamzee cackles and Vriska swears loudly (upsetting a birthday party three lanes down). Eridan barely scrapes ahead of Feferi at the last second, while Terezi managed to stomp Tavros and put him in last place. He was disappointed, but consoled by Gamzee (dear God just kiss already you blubbering goddamn pansy).

When you finished the third game, everyone said their goodbyes and left. Vriska respected Gamzee enough to give him a quick handshake and a hug with Terezi, and waving at the rest of you (but not before being tackle-hugged by Feferi). Feferi and Terezi passed out hugs, and even Tavros asked for a hug before being rolled off by Gamzee (who just stood there watching Tavros…goddammit you’re gonna have to get them together too).

You and Eridan climbed into the car once you’d all said your goodbyes, but he offered to drive home this time because he said you looked really tired. You thanked him and climbed in, flipping open your phone first to check Pesterchum, only to find a few pending messages. From Dirk, to your surprise.

timeausTestified [TT] began pestering twinsArmageddon [TA]

TT: Hey so…  
TT: I’ve pretty much been thinking about Jake all day.  
TT: And I think you’re right, I’m gonna give him some time.  
TT: Maybe a couple of weeks, maybe more, I’m not really sure yet.  
TT: But I think I’ll know when to talk to him when it’s right.  
TT: Okay obviously you’re not at your computer right now…  
TT: Whatever, I’ve got shit to do.  
TT: Anyway, thanks for the help, Sollux.

timeausTestified [TT] ceased pestering twinsArmageddon [TA]

You smile down at your phone before slipping it back into your pocket. Eridan stops at a red light and turns his head a little to look at you.

“What are you so smiley about, Sol? You’ve smiled more today than I think you have in a while.” He smiles at you, his hand ghosting across yours. You roll your eyes with a smile and let him take your hand, looking out the window as the car starts moving again. You don’t talk for the rest of the ride home; you just let Eridan drive, one hand on the wheel, the other still locked with yours.

You’re nodding off a bit by the time Eridan pulls into your shared house, shutting off the car and releasing your hand just to gently shake your shoulder. You nod and climb slowly out of the car, stretching your arms above your head and allowing your stiff neck to relax a bit.

He leads you back to your room, hand in hand, and pulls your shirt off of you and drags you down to lay beside him in the bed. You smile and rest your head on the crook of his neck, surprising Eridan. You’re the same height, but usually he’s the one cuddlingup to you. You don’t give it much thought, though; you’re too tired.

“Hey ED?” you begin, feeling his neck shift a little as he looks down at you.

“What’s up?”

“I love you,” you smile, pressing closer into him. He smiles into your hair and he holds you just a bit closer, a bit tighter.

“Love you too, Sol.”

You drift off a bit, thinking briefly of Dirk and Jake. You hope that, someday soon, when Jake has had his time to think about it all, that they can go to sleep like this. Jake cuddled into Dirk’s neck, with the blond’s breath ghosting over him.

You wish the best for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter so quick because I want to get a chapter in before Thanksgiving, because the next chapter will be Thanksgiving-themed. So yeah, it's here now. Hope you liked it!!


	9. Jake: Celebrate with your Family (and friends?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW! I've been writing for hours because it never occurred to me that I should put out a special chapter for this, the most fattening of holidays! Now this chapter goes back to DirkJake because I've missed writing about my babies, so here you go!

Your name is Jake English, and it’s been almost month since your night with Dirk.

He never pestered you. You logged on every day, sat there for about two hours (sometimes longer), and you see him online almost every day. You never pestered him, though; you waited for him to go first. He never did, and after two weeks, you stopped trying.

It’s Thanksgiving today, and you’re already in the kitchen with your grandmother, preparing for the feast at her house. It’s the same every year; Thanksgiving at her house, Christmas at yours. There was never really a decision made, it just happened every time. You don’t mind.

Jade’s been particularly excited today for some reason. She’s been bouncing around all day, chanting ‘I can’t wait for dinner!’. She’s never been a huge eater, a small amount usually enough to fill her up, so Thanksgiving has never really been her thing. That’s why you think it’s so odd, yet so impossibly predictable when Dave is standing at your front door at just a few minutes after five o’clock.

“Sup,” he greets, cut off by a tackle-hug from Jade. He hugs her back, the first real smile you’ve ever seen from the kid hitting his face. Jade’s hand slips into his, and you smile knowingly as you know that Aranea was right; they _are_ an item, even as kids. You think it’s cute, but you make a mental note to talk to Jade about it later.

It doesn’t really click for a few seconds that you realize that Dirk is Dave’s brother, so you bend down to eye-level and ask Dave a question.

“So, uh…where’s your brother, Dave?” you ask. He raises an eyebrow at you, a knowing smirk landing on his face.

“Not even a greeting, English? Rude,” he chides, and you glare at him. He chuckles again before deciding to actually answer you. “In the car, mentally preparing himself for tonight.”

Oh joy, he _is_ here. You were hoping he would just pester you and you could talk it out that way, but no. He drug his feet and now you’ll be forced to endure a Thanksgiving full of awkward and sad.

You realized that you didn’t explain that part yet.

Your Mom killed herself a few months back, about a week before your thing with Dirk. Nothing’s really happened since then in the ways of holidays, so this is the first; it never really clicked like that. You’ve managed not to think about it, and you thought you were close to getting over it until today, when you set up one too many plates (this was before you knew that Dave and Dirk were coming). You ended up practically throwing it back in the cabinet and cracking the plate.

Your grandmother witnessed the outburst, and rested her hand on your shoulder. You were crying, and she hugged you tight. It was several minutes before anyone spoke.

“There, there, dear, don’t cry on a special day,” she criticized jokingly, but failed to get you to smile. You just pulled her tighter.

“Grandma…why do you think she did it?” you ask. She tensed just the slightest bit before pulling away from you, sad eyes greeting your watery ones.

You’re only now realizing how old your grandmother is getting. Deep wrinkles line her face, laugh lines more apparent than most. Her eyes aren’t as bright and full of life as they used to be, but if you look hard enough, it’s still there. The only thing she’s managed to retain in her old age is her solid, black hair, a small miracle in itself that you don’t think she’s ever forced herself to question.

 

“I don’t…” she hesitated, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t think we’ll ever really know, dear.”

“She didn’t even have the decency to leave a note,” you grumble, returning to the nearby drawer (below the cabinet with the cracked plate) to retrieve silverware. She grabbed your arm and turned you back around to face her, her eyes now dropped to the floor.

“Do you know what it means when someone kills themselves and _doesn’t_ leave a note?” she asked softly because you think you hear Jade in the other room. You don’t answer, just shrug, because you don’t know if you want to hear what she says.

“It means they didn’t feel like they had someone to leave it for.”

That was your food for thought for several hours.

You don’t try to deny that you and your mother weren’t really close. As a child, it was your grandmother that took you around the world. It was your grandmother who potty trained you, taught you how to shoot a gun. You weren’t any kind of close with your mother until you were in middle school (also when you first began attending; you were homeschooled by your Grandmother until that point), and even then it was always ‘Can we go over to Grandma’s today?’ or something.

It wasn’t until years after that you realized that it probably really hurt her. There were no days when you would stay home just to hang out with your mom (without dreading it). And even after you graduated, you rarely came home. You argued more often, and she was questioning your life choices no matter what you did. You went weeks without speaking to her.

In fact, your last conversation with her was an argument. Such a cliché, right? ‘I regret that my last conversation wasn’t a goodbye’ and all that nonsense. It doesn’t really seem to mean anything until it’s you.

You’re reliving this all; you tend to do that sometimes. You absentmindedly obey your grandmother when she tells you to set the table for Dirk and Dave, somewhere in your subconscious knowing that Dave and Jade should sit together, and Dirk next to you. You don’t think much about it. You just set an extra plate on your left, and an extra on Jade’s right.

You help with the turkey, pull it out of the oven and check its temperature. You think it’s right. At least, you hope so. It smells done.

“English.”

Did you guys put butter on this? You think you smell butter.

“English…”

Oh that reminds you, you should get the bread out of the oven, too. That’s probably done…

“ _Jesus fuck, Jake!_ ” you hear someone yell, before you hear a pan scrape against the counter as it’s dropped onto the flat surface. Dirks seethes and drops the pan, coughing a bit and dropping something on the ground. You turn, snapped out of your trance and looking over at the blond.

He’s holding his hands together and close to the sink, a piece of browned bread on the ground next to a torn oven mitt. You’ve told your grandmother to throw it out a thousand times, but she kept using it as a place to set down hot pans. Dirk didn’t seem to get that and used the torn one to take out the bread before it started to burn.

“…I’m sorry,” you whisper, but Dirk doesn’t respond. He blasts cold water over his bright pink hand, biting his lip until you think he’s about to draw blood.

“…I’m sorry,” you repeat. Dirk turns to you this time, his eyebrows raised above his ridiculous shades. He doesn’t say anything when you grab his wrist and lead him to the bathroom.

You make him sit down on the toilet, quietly asking him to stay while you get the first-aid kit. He obeys silently, still looking down at the bright pink burn on his hand. You’ve dealt with a lot of burns, mostly from when you were younger. You kept grabbing the barrel of the gun after you shot for some reason. Not to mention how much time you spent outside, there was a lot of sunburns and aloe. You think you still have some in here somewhere…there it is. You pull out the aloe and a washcloth running the cloth under cold water, and kneel down beside of him.

You take his hand and look close at the burn, and you see that it’s not very bad at all. You rub some aloe on it and press the cold cloth into his hand.

“…thanks, Jake,” he says. You smile faintly up at him.

“No problem, mate.” You two return to silence for a while you let the cold water soak into the burn. He stares at you the whole time; you can’t see his eyes even this close, those shades are blackout. But you _feel_ his eyes on you. He’s studying you, waiting for you to say something.

This is what you wanted to avoid as soon as you found out Dave and Dirk were coming. You would stay in the crowd, and make sure that you never get caught alone. But here you are, crouched down beside him, nursing his burn that he only got because you were too busy wallowing in your own sadness.

“Jake, what was that about?” he asks, closing the door behind you with his foot. You know what he’s asking about; why you haven’t talked at all, why you weren’t paying attention to the bread. You knew it was almost done, too, but you didn’t move. You didn’t care.

You actually take a second to look him over, the same way he’s been studying you (except your glasses are clear, and he watches you do this). He seems smaller than you remember; in fact, he seemed downright large the last time you were this close to Dirk. He was so confident, sure of himself, _sexy_ …now he just seems normal. Most people wouldn’t prefer this, but you sort of like being able to look at him without your genitals making a guest appearance.

“Just a…hard day, is all,” you tell him. He makes a small gesture with his (not burnt) hand, asking for you to continue. You sigh. “My, uh…my Mom passed away last month.”

You look over and see the gears turning in his head, the way his eyebrows slink below the edge of his shades. He puts the pieces together pretty quickly.

“That’s what you were trying to forget at the bar.” It wasn’t a question, but you nod anyway. He bites his lip and pulls the washcloth gently out of your hand and holds it onto the burn himself, allowing you to sit awkwardly on the floor in front of him in equally awkward silence.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dirk whispers a few moments later. You smile weakly and set your head against the door you’re leaning against. It fades instantly upon his next few sentences, and the awkwardness intensifies.

“I’m sorry I never pestered you, Jake,” he apologizes, a surprising strike of humility on his part. “I was…advised to give you some time to think, and I guess I waited too long. Fuck, I didn’t even know we were coming over today until Dave told me an hour and a half ago. Apparently he and his girlfriend planned this whole thing.”

You giggle a little. “I still can’t believe that your brother and my niece are ‘dating’,” you smile. Dirk nods and removes his shades with his good hand, setting them on the sink and rubbing his eyes. They flutter open and you’re happy to see that bright orange color again.

You’re feeling it again when you two make eye-contact. That same feeling you had in the bar, that magnetic aura of Dirk. You didn’t even see his eyes before, it was everything else about him. Adding that on top of the rest of his clothes (and the lack thereof) was what pushed you over the edge. With those piercing orange orbs lazily scanning over you, you just know that your cheeks are heating up again.

“English are you feeling alright?” he asks with a knowing smirk, setting the washcloth down beside his shades. His unscathed hand lifts up to your cheek and you know that he knows you aren’t sick but you don’t stop him. He feigns checking your temperature as his hand slowly brushes across your skin making its way up to your forehead, and then back down to your cheek.

_Why did you say no that day at Jade’s school?_

You don’t think you know the answer to that. But Dirk leans in and kisses you anyway.

You aren’t as aware of this kiss as you were that night in the bar. You sit there lazily, letting the blond do ninety-nine percent of the work. You lean into it a little, a muffled gasp the only sound you make during it. You’re just sort of numb throughout the whole thing.

Eventually Dirk pulls back, and you come out of your trance and realize that you missed the whole show. Dirk raises an eyebrow at you, concerned that he’s done something wrong.

“I…sorry, Jake, I—”

You grab the fabric of his shirt and probably stretch it a bit to pull him back to you, and you throw your arms around his neck and crash your lips into his.

 _This_ feels like your first kiss, and it means more than anything that happened in that bar.

It’s better, that’s for certain. His tongue doesn’t find its way into your mouth for several moments, and even then it’s more controlled than you remember. It matters because it’s more than a service, and it’s because of where you _are_. Dirk is sitting on a toilet and you’re on the floor and you couldn’t imagine it in another way, because nothing could add up to him awkwardly bending over and probably causing major back pains just to kiss you.

Nobody speaks except for your grandmother, announcing that dinner is finally ready. Dirk whispers in your ear. “ _We’ll talk about that date later_.” He stands and helps you up as well before opening the door. He makes sure to grab the still-cool cloth and his shades (they’re already back on his face, the quick bastard).

You’re greeted with two odd looks, and both are from eleven-year olds; Dave smirks at you and his brother knowingly, while Jade raises an eyebrow in confusion as you both step out of the bathroom. Jade seems satisfied when Dirk mutters something about the burn on his hand, but Dave just drops his smirk and continues filling his plate.

You take your seat at the head of the table opposite Grandma, and Dirk takes the seat beside you.

“Who wants to say Grace?” Grandma asks, smiling. You and Jade return the smile instantly, and together chant “GRACE!” before taking a bite of food. Dave laughs outwardly at the shenanigans and even Dirk manages a chuckle before dropping a fuckton of corn and turkey onto his plate.

Dinner goes off without a hitch aside from the only-slightly-crispy rolls. The whole table is quiet except for the sound of clinking silverware, sloshing of drinks and the chewing of food. You get the feeling that Dirk and Dave aren’t used to eating with utensils, because they both have bad habits of reaching for turkey with their hands (Grandma doesn’t miss a beat; she nearly stabbed Dave with a fork one time). They settle into it eventually, though, and you’re thankful for that if nothing else.

Well, maybe _nothing_ else. You’re rather thankful for Dirk today.

Now that his tongue is out of your mouth, your nerves regarding your entire situation are creeping back to you. What is going on? You need your blue ladies, you need to talk to Aranea again or something. You can’t _believe_ that you’ve done these—these _things_ with Dirk! You could excuse yourself for the first time; you were drunk, and weird things have always happened to you while under the influence. But today…you kissed back, you can’t fool yourself out of that one. And you haven’t had a drop of alcohol since the bar.

You keep trying to justify your sexuality somehow, but Dirk keeps _fucking touching your leg_ and he’s ruining it!

Any time he reaches for something on the table, his unoccupied hand always somehow manages to touch your knee or the side of your leg somewhere, and every time you jump like you just got shocked. You don’t look, but you know he’s smirking (and probably Dave too, the little shit).

You jump, torn out of your thoughts, when a bony finger prods your cheek. You immediately turn to scold Dirk, but realize that it was on the other side. You look down at Jade, who is smiling at you.

“Jade, don’t touch your Uncle’s face like that,” Grandma scolds. “It’s rude, he’s eating.”

“But Uncle Jake is smiling again!” she exclaims, her own grin stretching across her face. You have to reach up and touch your own face to realize that she’s right.

Dirk made you smile.

Your eyes dart over to him and you see that his cheeks have flushed only the slightest shade of pink; you wouldn’t notice it if you weren’t looking for it. But you were.

You subconsciously scoot your chair a little further from him, and Dirk doesn’t try to hide his discomfort with the act. He wipes his mouth with the napkin and excuses himself semi-politely (for him, he may as well have bowed at Grandma’s feet). Dave frowns at him before setting his own fork down and starts whispering to Jade.

“Don’t whisper at the table, please,” Grandma says. You chuckle a bit at the irony of your grandmother’s entire personality; for someone who lived the better part of her life in a jungle, she certainly is one to uphold mannerisms.

“Sorry, but it’s a secret!” Jade giggles, slapping her hands over her mouth.

“Yeah old lady, chill, it’s between me and her,” Dave defends.

“Watch yourself, Blondie,” Grandma chides. Dave’s face turns red and Jade bursts into cackles as Dave sulks silently in his chair. You lean in close to the cackling girl and whisper in hear ear (you know you’re setting a bad example but oh well).

“ _What are you over here whispering about anyway_?” you ask her. Jade wipes the tears from her eyes and cups her hands over your ear, whispering back.

“ _Dave told me about you and his brother being boyfriends_!” she smiled. You choke on your own spit and slam your hand down on the table to keep yourself from literally falling out of your seat. Grandma’s eyes shoot wide open as you practically scream your next sentence.

“Dirk is _not_ my boyfriend!”

It’s Dave’s turn to burst into laughter, followed shortly by Jade. Grandma’s face stays pretty much the same throughout their entire fit of laughter; shocked being the most appropriate description. You feel your face blush dark red and you run from the table and back into the bathroom.

That was literally the most embarrassing moment of your life! Oh my _GOD_ , did you SERIOUSLY just say that out loud?! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

You hear a little bit of chatter, a brief exchange of thanks before chairs scoot against the hardwood floors. You think you hear Dirk say something, and the sound of bare feet on the floor gets louder and closer to the door you’re currently leaning against.

“Jake.” You don’t respond to Dirk as he says your name, you only watch your face get redder and redder in the mirror in front of you as your back slides down the door.

Dirk knocks on the door as if he doesn’t know you’re in there, but you ignore him. In fact, you reach up to lock the door so that he doesn’t just walk in on you like this. Dirk sighs and there’s a slight shuffling sound, and you hear keys clicking.

A moment later, your phone lights up, signaling that you have someone pestering. Your smile reforms itself as you see that you just got your first message from timeausTestified.

timeausTestified [TT] began pestering golgothasTerror [GT]

TT: Yo English.  
TT: I believe we have a date to discuss.

You seriously cannot believe this guy. He’s pestering you from the other side of a two-inch piece of wood. You roll your eyes and decide to humor him.

GT: I can’t!! I’m so embarrassed!! D:  
TT: There there, you blubbering goddamn pansy.  
TT: Dirky’s here.  
GT: Did you even hear what I yelled?  
TT: Sure did, and you broke my heart man. 3  
TT: Why you gotta shoot down a guy’s dream like that?  
TT: You’re cold as ice, Officer Friendly.  
GT: Officer Friendly…?  
TT: Oh my God you missed a perfectly good Walking Dead reference.  
TT: Remind me why I want to date you again.

You take a minute to think about that one. Why _does_ Dirk want to date you? You…were just a client, weren’t you? He’s done it a million times. Hell, you’d wager he’s done it a million times just since he last…fornicated…with you! What makes him so insistent?

GT: I think I’d rather like to know the reasoning to that myself.

There, make him do all the thinking! Wait shit, he already responded.

TT: Don’t turn this on me, English. You kissed me first.  
GT: What? I did no such thing!  
TT: Swear on my shades, man.  
TT: I picked you up like I’d pick up any other client. You were nothing special to me.  
TT: Then you kissed me, and you kissed me. I seriously thought you weren’t gonna stop.  
GT: …  
TT: And swear to God, before I knew it, I didn’t want you to.

You groan and you hear Dirk bust out laughing on the other side of the door. He knows that has to be the cheesiest, most god-awful thing he could have said just there.

TT: Alright so maybe I’m being a bit dramatic, but it’s true.  
TT: I really enjoyed that night, Jake.  
TT: And I’d pay you back to make it happen again.

…………………………………………………………………………………..

TT: Too forward?  
GT: Maybe a little.  
TT: Is this the part where you say it’s the thought that counts?  
GT: It’s the thought that counts, mate :)  
TT: Aw just what I needed to hear.  
TT: But seriously though, is this date thing gonna happen or not?  
GT: I suppose…it can’t hurt to try.

OH DEAR GOD WAS THAT A YES? YOU JUST SAID YES DIDN’T YOU?

TT: Sweet. I’ll work out the details.  
TT: How does next Sunday sound? I’m off that night.  
GT: Sunday sounds okay.  
TT: I’ll make the arrangements, then.

He doesn’t pester you, but you hear him stand up on the other side of the door. The doorknob jiggles a little, and you hear some clinking and other odd sounds. A few seconds later there’s a click, and the door opens and you have to scoot away so that it can open.

“Dirk, did you just _pick the lock_?!” you ask him. Dirk leans in, his shades removed, and presses his lips against yours for only a fraction of a second. He smiles and his nose presses against yours a little.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Jake.”

He closes the door again, leaving you alone in the bathroom. He says brief goodbyes to Grandma and Jade before you hear him and Dave exit your grandmother’s home.

“…Happy Thanksgiving, Dirk.” You smile to yourself a little and look back in the mirror, examining the blush on your face leftover from the surprise kiss.

Oh shit. You have a date with Dirk Strider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm posting this at like three in the morning, but it simply had to be done and Thanksgiving is a busy day in my family!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all have a great Thanksgiving! Make sure to spend lots of time with your friends and family, and be grateful for everything you have! (and maybe be a little grateful that I stayed up this late to get this chapter put out ;~;)
> 
> I'm kidding, I totally could have waited until sometime tomorrow to do this but I can never put my babies away once I've started writing.
> 
> One last thing, I'll be putting this story on Fanfiction whenever I get some free time in case your device of choice is more cooperative with that than on AO3.
> 
> Happy Thanksgiving, my lovely readers! Please leave Kudos and Comments because they're the only thing that motivates me to write!


	10. Dirk: Have some Pie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot! Chapter 10 is back with my beautiful Mr. Strider (and I also brought Roxy back!!<3), so let's get right to it!

“YOU DID _WHAT_?!?!”

“Nice to see you, too, Roxy,” you sigh, taking a sip of your Coke and setting it down on the table. Roxy groans and takes a sip of her trademark martini (home-brewed, naturally).

You found this little hole-in-the-wall place with Roxy a few days ago, after walking her home from work after a particularly brutal night. A guy Roxy managed to get to hire her ended up being a total dick, and she came out of the room with more than a few bite marks and bruises. You carried her most of the way, but couldn’t help but notice the little bakery built in between two much larger buildings; Jane’s Bakery. May as well try it sometime, you thought; it’s right halfway between your apartment and Roxy’s, so it actually works out.

The place is nice, too. Really clean, not very busy at all. The drinks are cold and that’s a plus, and the kid that took your order is actually friends with your brother. It was a little awkward at first because you sure as hell didn’t recognize him, but he recognized you from the parent-teacher bullshit last month.

“Dirk, why did you ask him out…?” Roxy whined. “You know how Meenah is about working while you have a relationship! She’s totes gonna be pissed!”

“Did I say anything about a relationship? We have a date, that doesn’t mean we’re gonna start wearing matching sweaters and going to PTA meetings, Jesus…” you snap back. Roxy actually looks a little hurt; you know she’s a tough nut to crack, but you think you’re the only one with the nut cracker. Little comments from you seem to get to her, even when you don’t mean them to.

“Dirk, you know what I mean…” she drawls, taking another sip from her glass. “And dating a former client is like…double bad. This is so, so bad, ugh!”

“Roxy, it’s not nearly the big deal you’re making it…” you sigh.

“ _Roxy Lalonde_ , as I live and breathe!” someone exclaims from the other side of the small shop. You look over to see a woman, probably about Roxy’s age, with a dark-brown pixie cut and a white apron. On the apron in bright blue in a fancy font is written _Jane Crocker_ , so you assume that she’s the owner of the Bakery.

“Jane?!” Roxy shouts, her eyes widening as she clambers out of the booth to run over and hug Jane.

Roxy and she embrace for a minute or two, babbling quietly to each other that they’ve missed each other and stuff like that. When Roxy finally pries herself off of the baking lady, you take a minute to examine Jane. She’s slightly on the heavier side, not fat but certainly not a size zero. Her cheeks are a little bit rounder than most but that prize-winning smile totally owns the extra space. All in all, you think she’s pretty much adorable.

“Roxy, do you know her?” you inquire.

“ _KNOW_ her? She was only, like, my BESTEST friend EVER in High School!” Roxy screams, and Jane smiles sweetly as she removes her apron. Jane wipes her hands on the discarded clothing, what you assume to be flour dusting the air around her. She extends her hand out to you.

“Jane Crocker. And you are?”

“Dirk Strider.”

“Strider? I assume you’re related to Dave, then.”

“He’s my brother, yeah.”

“Well John is my nephew, and it’s a shame that we haven’t met until now! Come on, let me grab your pie and we’ll all have a chat.”

Jane keeps true to her word, meeting you and Roxy at your shared table with three plates of pie, two pumpkin and one strawberry (you and Jane seem to have something in common, but Roxy can’t help herself when it comes to strawberry pie). Roxy dives straight into her pie, and Jane turns to her to start the discussion.

“So how’ve you been, Roxy?” Jane asks, her fingers interlaced and that sweet smile still sitting comfortably on her face. Roxy takes a second to swallow and wipe a little whipped cream off her chin.

“I’ve been totes great, Jane! I’m living Downtown where all the nightlife is, you know,” she winks, and Jane giggles (though she most certainly does _not_ know Roxy’s idea of the nightlife…remember the prostitution? That’s still a thing). “But I don’t give to shits about that, look at YOU, Janey! You finally got your bakery.”

“Yes, well…it’s not all that I dreamed for back in school, but she’s certainly mine,” Jane relays proudly, her hand brushing possessively across the surface of the table. Her eyes sweep across the room for a moment, examining all that is hers, before turning her eyes to you.

“So Rose’s sister and Dave’s brother are close, huh? I assume you two met through the little ones?” Jane asks sweetly. You shake your head a couple times.

“Actually they met through us. Roxy and I actually work together,” you explain lightly, not wanting to go further. Jane nods happily, and turns back to Roxy.

“Oh, where are you working, Roxy? Is it nearby?” she asks. Roxy makes a ‘sort of’ gesture with her hand, the one where you spread your fingers all out and wiggle your hand awkwardly until they get the message. Jane raises an eyebrow, silently begging for her to elaborate. “We work…at a bar.”

“Yeah, and I do some robotics in my free time,” you interrupt, desperate to change the subject. Bright pink eyes full of thanks dart back to you, and Jane seems to have fallen for your decoy.

“Robotics? My, that’s very impressive! And…oh goodness, what was your name again? I’m terrible with names,” she giggles. You smile softly (which by Strider standards, you’re grinning like a doofus right now and she should be damn grateful).

“It’s Dirk.”

Something happened in those next four seconds that you don’t think you’ll ever truly understand. A flurry of emotions, realizations, and accusations.

“Wait-Dirk?! At a bar? Downtown? And you two—oh my God, Jake!” Jane spouts, any mixture of those enough to surprise you by her tone if nothing else. She stands up quickly with her hands covering her mouth.

“D-Did you say Jake?!” you also spout, scowling at yourself internally for actually just _stuttering_ holy shit how uncool was that?! Why not just shove your shades firmly up your own ass?

“Yes, Jake! He’s—oh God, you’re _him_!” Jane shouts, pointing at you. “You and he, he and you—he had sex with you! And you—” she pauses looking back at Roxy, and then back at you. “Oh _God_ , you two are prostitutes!”

You and Roxy shoosh her simultaneously, and Roxy runs to make sure John is nowhere nearby. Jane quietly informs you that he went to spend the day with Karkat, and the both of you relax knowing that some blabbermouth won’t spill shit like that at school.

“Okay, now that we know the kid is gone, mind catching me up on what the fuck just happened?” Roxy requests. “Jane, how do you know Jake?”

“How do I know him? I’ve been friends with Jake for years! He went to my Middle School, and I was the first one to talk to him. I had to move when High School came around but we kept in touch,” she babbles, wringing her hands nervously as she goes on her explanation. “And I guess you met Jake through his niece, since she’s dating your brother and all.”

“Not exactly, he just showed up at the bar…” you defend. Jane’s eyes flare, and you’re pretty sure she’s never been this upset in her life.

“ _When did he come to the bar_ ,” she growls, voice dripping with venom. You think back, your thoughts veiled by an odd cloud of both confusion and downright terror. The plump girl’s face is flushed red with anger—no, you think fury is more appropriate. She’s downright livid.

“A little over a month ago, I think? Why—”

**_SLAP_ **

“Jane, what the fuck?!” Roxy yells before she grabs Jane’s wrist while she dives in for more. You seethe and cup your bright red cheek, pain shooting through your entire face and not just your cheek. Jane rips her hand from Roxy’s grasp, tears brimming behind Jane’s glasses.

“Do you even know what that boy has been through these past two months?” Jane asks, offended. You don’t respond, though—you can’t do anything but stand there in complete shock as she continues her monologue. She half-chuckles through her frustration. “You have no idea, do you, Dirk? That boy lost his mother—the only reason he went to that damnable bar is so that he could get drunk and forget about his problems for a little while.”

“I know his mom died, but—”

“Dirk, stop!” Jane literally shouts in your face. You jump a little, and Roxy backs away from the girl. Jane is actually crying now, wiping tears off her cheeks throughout her ranting.

“You don’t know _anything_ that he has gone through! Did he tell you how she died?” You don’t respond because it wasn’t really a question; somehow, Jane knows that he wouldn’t want to talk about it. “She killed herself, Dirk. Splattered her own brains all over the wall. With one of _Jake’s_ guns, no less.”

You let that sink in for a moment while Roxy tries to get Jane to stop crying. She…oh God. You knew that Jake was taking Thanksgiving pretty hard without his Mom, but Jesus Christ…this is something else entirely.

“And as if it wasn’t enough that he lost it all, he’s been distracted for all this time because of you,” she sniffles, starting to calm down some. “You confused him, Dirk. He hasn’t been able to talk about anything but you ever since the bar. Do you know how much it—” she chokes up. Roxy pats her back and leads her into the back room. Roxy looks back and shoots you a knowing look. _We’ll talk later…_

~~~~~~~~~

Your name is Roxy Lalonde, and you’re currently huddled in the back room of a bakery with your old friend, Jane Crocker. She’s sobbing into her own hands as you sit her down in a ridiculously comfortable looking office chair. You look around for a second, and you think that this is an office. There’s an old-ish computer stationed in the corner of the large, sectional desk, and several filing cabinets labeled ‘RECIPES’ are stationed in the corner.

“Jane, I need you to tell me what’s bothering you so much about this business with Jake,” you try to comfort. Jane chuckles through her slowing sobs.

“Oh shush up, Roxy, we aren’t in school anymore. We can’t be prattling about boys constantly anymore—” she stops. “Well, _I_ can’t prattle about boys, and you can’t prattle about ladies.”

Did you mention that you’re gay? That’s sorta important.

You don’t think you’ve ever brought it up to Dirk…not sober, anyway (not that sobriety is an all-that common occurrence but still). You’ve talked to your stupid sister enough-yeah, Rose the ever wise, four foot tall spawn of Hell itself. The gothic shit made herself your personal therapist and barges into your room like a bloodhound on a hunt as soon as she gets the feeling something is wrong. And she _always_ knows when there’s something bothering you. She has a sense for it, you can just walk in the door and she’s waiting with a notepad and a cleared off spot on the couch for you to lie down on (not an exaggeration, this literally happens).

It didn’t take long for Rose to find out your preference for the ladies, she was probably in third grade or so. It was hours after that that she discovered your true employment as a prostitute, but it took you forever to explain that you service men. You aren’t attracted to men, like, at all. But females tend not to hire prostitutes and you do what you have to do.

“ _Why don’t you just get another job_?” she’d asked. You remember chuckling at that, one of your last memories of Rose still having her childlike innocence.

“ _Other jobs don’t pay enough._ ”

You’ve been raising Rose since you were eighteen, fresh out of high school. In fact, you think it was only weeks after you’d lost contact with Jane.

You’re not going to go on a Strider rant here, so you’ll keep it simple; your drinking didn’t come from nowhere. Mommy dearest could drink you under a table without batting one of her perfect little eyelashes. But dear Lord that woman couldn’t drive drunk in the slightest.

You can imagine what happened next, and why Rose ended up in your custody. Normally it would’ve fallen on your Dad, but guess what? You’re not the only prostitute in the Lalonde line. Mommy dearest still doesn’t know who the fuck it was.

Well, didn’t know…and now you never will considering that the old bat’s worm food now.

“It doesn’t matter, Jane,” you mutter quietly, sweetly, still trying to calm her down. “You’re hurting, and Momma Roxy wants to know why. So spill.”

Turns out, Jane has liked Jake for a long time. Since seventh grade, even, and Jane is twenty-one now.

“It just feels like I wasted so much time,” she says, forcing a laugh out through the sentence. “Eight years I’ve invested in that lad, trying my best. I could never flirt, you know that much, so I never bothered with Jake. Lord knows he’s the most block-headed boy ever to grace the planet, so flirting wouldn’t have done me any good anyway.” She stops to take a long, shaky breath. “And then Dirk comes in, with his stupid glasses and his blond hair and his quite frankly gorgeous body, and sweeps Jake off his feet without even trying.”

“Jane—”

“I mean, how is that fair? I’ve worked so hard for this, I-I-I love Jake! He’s the most kindhearted boy on the planet, and he deserves someone better than some _sleazy_ pros—”

You don’t glare at Jane. You don’t have to, because she catches herself first. She never really gave it much thought because she was freaking out about Jake and Dirk, but it’s finally clicking that not only is Dirk a hooker, but so are you.

Your old friend frowns softly at you, which reads somewhere between pity and disappointment (leaning more towards the former, you think).

“Oh Roxy…what happened? I thought you would go so far,” she comments, rubbing her thumb over your balled hand (when did that happen holy shit your hand hurts from making that fist so tight).

“What are you talking about?” you grin, pounding your chest. “We all know I’m a sex _god_ , it only makes sense to use your talents. Why squander all those skills where—?”

“Roxy.” Jane frowns, her hands landing on either side of your face. You sigh to break the silence—if there were only two people on Earth that could read you like this, it would be Dirk and Jane.

Well, probably Rose too, actually, but we’re not talking about the she-devil right now.

“I just…I needed the cash and it comes quick this way,” you shrug. “Rose needs someone to be there after…”

“Now now, let’s not go down that path,” Jane suggests, patting your shoulder and pulling up a chair from somewhere behind her so that you can sit together. You take it with a smile, thinking of every kindness Jane has done for you. She was…basically your only friend in high school. You put out to pretty much anybody who asked, male or female, just because…you didn’t care. You YOLO’d the fuck out of high school before that was even a thing.

Jane was different. Despite how much you wanted to, Jane wouldn’t have sex with anybody (looking back, though, you’re willing to bet it was because of a certain Mr. English). Jane was the first girl you ever fell for, and _fuck_ did you fall hard. You sort of got over it eventually, went out with a sweet girl named Cali. For a long time, too, but you broke up somewhere around graduation, because her shitty twin brother threatened to kill you and you decided that she really wasn’t worth it.

“What was it that you wanted to be, Roxy?” Jane asks you. You look up at her, coming out of your depressing stupor a little. “I remember, we wanted to work together…oh, you wanted to be a—”

“A caterer,” you finish her sentence with a smile. “Yeah, that’s it. I wanted to plan all the best parties. Proms, reunions, weddings, everything. It woulda been a good life.”

“Well you won’t get there where you are now,” Jane suggests. Your breath catches for a moment; you don’t want to start thinking like that. The second you start thinking like that, your time at Meenah’s will start coming to a close. You need to stay there, that’s where the money is. For Rose, right?

For Rose.

“…I should go talk to Dirk. He’s probably freaking out,” you whisper solemnly. Jane takes a shaky breath before opening a drawer on her desk and pulling a pack of cigarettes out, She shakily draws one from the pack and slips it between her lips.

“Thank God John left, I really need to smoke,” she giggles half-heartedly. You whisper a goodbye and write your Pesterchum handle on a sticky pad on her desk.

You get back to your apartment, relieved, and force the key into the lock. You step inside and close the door behind you.

When you turn around, Rose is there with a notepad and a purple pen. A spot has been cleared on the couch and _how the fuck does she do that?_

“Hello, Roxy,” Rose greets warmly. You groan and walk straight towards your room.

“Yeah hey Rose, look I’m really not in the mood--”

“You never are, Roxy. Sit down,” she commands, scribbling something down. You groan and flop down on the couch, putting your head back on the armrest as she always instructs you to. It’s really just easier to comply with her in these situations, no matter how annoying it is.

“So, tell me,” Rose begins. “Where were you that had you so stressed out?”

“At a bakery,” you tell her. Rose motions for you to continue, and you sigh. “Jane’s Bakery, it’s a little place between here and Dirk’s place. Egbert’s Aunt or something owns it.”

“Egbert? As in John Egbert, in my class?” Rose inquires. You nod, and Rose scribbles something else on her notepad. “Who is his Aunt? Is it somebody you know?”

You nod again. “Jane Crocker, old friend from high school.”

“You’ve mentioned her before in previous sessions. You had a crush on her in school, correct?” You nod. “So, you’ve reunited with an old crush and old feelings have begun to surface again. So what has you so stressed out? Shouldn’t this be a good thing?”

“Nooo~!” you groan, flipping over and burying your face in a pillow. “Because she likes Jake, and Dirk and Jake are sort of a thing now and she’s totally flipping out!!!”

Rose raises an eyebrow and you think she’s trying to draw a chart to follow your train of thought, because her pen is all over the page now. Eventually she nods down at it, and chews on the end of the pen (you’ve noticed that habit of hers when she’s thinking).

“So, Jane likes Jake, but Jake likes Dirk,” she simplifies and you nod. “Okay, that’s enough for today. Thank you, Roxy.”

“Wait, what?!” you squeal. “Isn’t this the part when you tell me what I should do, ya little snot!?”

“Nope. This one, you have to do on your own,” Rose grins. You frown at her and snatch the notebook from her hands, flipping it open. Rose frowns at you and tries to get it back, but you stand up and hold it high above her head.

“Rose these aren’t even notes...” you growl. “YOU DREW A PICTURE OF A CAT!”

“I have an idetic memory, why would I bother taking notes?!” Rose yells back.

“Why did you even have the notebook then?”

“It looks official!”

You and she bicker for a while, but eventually you give up and watch Rose retreat to her room. You flop down on the couch with a groan, this time burying your face in the pillow out of sheer frustration.

What are you going to do? In combination with the fact that, yeah, you think you still like Jane, but this whole bullshit with Dirk and Jake…

You need a drink.

You make a martini in a flash, almost like that flashstepping that Strider used to do all the time. You take a sip from the glass, smiling into it.

Two hours later you’re completely smashed, falling over yourself when you go back to your bedroom. You flip on your computer and pester Dirk immediately, who is online.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering timeausTestified [TT]

TG: hyey drik  
TG: *dirk  
TT: Roxy are you drunk again?  
TG: no lol  
TT: suuure  
TT: Anyway, what do you need? I’m sort of busy.  
TG: so i totes talked to jnae for a while and hses depressed  
TG: *jane *shes  
TT: Well I don’t know what you want me to do about it.  
TG: idk either, but we gotta do something!  
TG: shes like fallin part and its bringing me down :’(  
TT: Well I have a date with Jake next Sunday and I’m not cancelling.  
TT: Why don’t you just woo the Crocker, Roxy?  
TG: ughh i would if i coulddddddddd  
TG: but shes stuck so far up jakes butt that she cant take a hunt  
TG: *hant  
TG: *hont *fuck it  
TT: Wow that was painful to watch.  
TT: Anyway yeah if you were to chill with Jane that’d save me a lot of trouble actually.  
TG: permission to flirt?  
TT: Permission granted.  
TG: :)

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering timeausTestified [TT]

You think you’ll have to talk to Jane soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I'm going to be writing ALL DAY TODAY because I have to release a chapter tomorrow to celebrate the birth of the beautiful Dave Strider. Hope you liked it, make sure to comment and leave kudos!! :D


	11. Dirk: Celebrate your Brother's Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW! I broke my fucking fingers trying to get this out in time, so yeah! :D Here you go!

Your name is Dirk Strider, and today is a special day.

No, it hasn’t been that long. Your date with Jake isn’t for another four days. No, you’ve had your hands full getting balloons, streamers, and the most girly and ironic wrapping paper you could manage. You even called Meenah and asked for the day off so that you could celebrate with your baby bro.

He’s so excited by the fact that he’s twelve now, not that it’s even a majorly important age. Some people would notice that he’s a year older than the rest of the class, but he actually just started a year later than everyone else because he didn’t feel like going and fuck if you were going to make him go.

You made sure that he invited all of his friends; he made most of the decisions on his own. Jade and John were obvious choices and Karkat followed shortly after. He wasn’t too sure about inviting Rose, but you pushed a little (mostly so Jane and Roxy have an excuse to hang out). Dave was sure to emphasize that all parents were welcome to come as well, and you’d be sure to entertain them.

_No, not Jake...keep that to yourself, Dirk…_

You managed to get pink and red streamers pretty much all over your house, even putting a huge sign in your front yard exclaiming your joy for Dave’s birthday, and he was almost in tears laughing when he saw it.

Dave kept asking you where his cake was, but you made all the arrangements. Jane would bring the cake herself. You ordered the cake a few days ago, and ordering it was sort of awkward, but it was a great way to quietly apologize for the whole “Jake” situation.

timeausTestified [TT] began pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG]

TT: Hey, this is Jane right?  
GG: Yes it is. What can I do you for?  
GG: I don’t think I recognize your chum handle. Who is this?  
TT: This is Dirk.  
GG: Oh. Well hello, Dirk.  
GG: How did you happen to find my handle?  
TT: Roxy gave it to me.  
GG: Ah, yes that figures. Never could keep her in her own business.  
TT: I’m sure she meant well.  
GG: I don’t doubt it. Roxy’s a great gal :B  
GG: So, now we’re here. What did you want to discuss?  
TT: Avoiding the awkward and uncomfortable, presumably.  
GG: That is preferable, yes.  
TT: Works for me.  
TT: I was wanting to order a birthday cake.  
GG: Oh.  
GG: Well that was rather unexpected!  
GG: Might I ask who the cake is for?  
TT: My lil bro, his birthday is next Wednesday and he’d kill for a Crocker Cake.  
TT: John’s going to the party right?  
GG: I do believe he mentioned something like that, yes.  
GG: I don’t get to spend as much time with him now that his Dad is back in town.  
GG: Okay, I can do that for you!  
GG: What kind of a cake did you have in mind?

 

You spared no expense on this cake. You wanted the biggest, most ironic cake that had ever been made in the history of baking. Bright pink with all of Dave’s favorite things plastered on it. Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff horribly drawn on, a broken record on the very top, and even a half-bottle of apple juice shoved into the cake near the bottom. It took a long time to explain to Jane why you wanted all of these ridiculous things in/on his cake, but she eventually agreed.

The guests are starting to roll in. Roxy and Rose were the first to arrive, followed by Karkat and his father Kankri. Jane, John, and John’s Dad (whose name is apparently Dad) came after them.

You and Dave nod silently and smile (a little) as everyone comes into the cramped apartment. John is sure to hug your bro as soon as he enters, while Rose offers a simple handshake and Karkat merely flips him off (though you think that’s a sign of affection, maybe?). Kankri apologizes on his behalf but you just shrug it off; you couldn’t care less anyway. Kankri can’t stay because of work, but thanks you for inviting Karkat and leaves.

You wave all the kids off and they gather in front of the TV and you think John put it some shitty Nic Cage movie or something. You wave it off and turn to Jane and Roxy.

“So how’s the cake?” you ask.

“Glorious, I finished it just in time!” Jane claps. “When Jake arrives, I’ll need you two to carry it inside. It’s rather heavy.”

“Heavy?” Roxy asks, and you think she might be a little tipsy despite it being three in the afternoon (not that that’s ever stopped Roxy, but still). “It’s a freakin’ cake, how heavy can it be?”

Jane smirks at you and gestures for the two of you to follow her out to her car. Jane throws open the back door, gesturing proudly inside to the monster of a cake inside.

It’s two feet tall of solid cake, circles of cake that progressively got smaller as it went up. Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff were painted on the side with frosting, with the image of a broken record on the very top. Jane even drank half a bottle of apple juice and forced the bottle into the largest circle, pointing out slightly to the side. Best of all, it’s bright fucking pink.

“It’s perfect,” you smile, and Jane smiles over you. You’re glad she’s smiling so much; you were worried about today being awkward but she’s so happy all the time and _damn_ is she proud of that cake.

“It’s huuuuuuuge!” Roxy gawks. “How are we ever gonna eat that monster?”

“There are five adults and a living room’s worth of fifth graders, I think we’ll do just fine,” you chuckle. Jane and Roxy nod and agree with you just as a green truck pulls into the busy parking lot.

“That’ll be Jake,” you say. You avoid Jane’s gaze as Roxy tugs on her sleeve.

“Hey Jane, we should go clear off the table for the cake, I think the kids all dumped their jackets on it,” Roxy giggles. Jane nods and the two retreat upstairs to clear a spot for the massive cake.

Two doors open in the truck, and by the time Jake manages to climb out of the driver’s seat, Jade has already run past you and straight up the stairs, bright green gift bag flailing behind her as she runs.. You smile back at her before turning to face Jake.

 _Fuck_ he looks good today.

He looks like he just rolled out of bed, his hair in a mess and his shirt wrinkled. He absent-mindedly tries patting his hair down, but it keeps going straight back up and you can’t help but think that it’s adorable.

“Hey, Dirk!” he grins happily.

“Hey, man. Party’s upstairs, you already missed quite a bit of Con Air.”

“W-What?” he gawks. “They’re watching Con Air!?”

He tries running past you but you catch him by the hood of his jacket. He swears and stops, turning back sheepishly to face you.

“No can do, English. You’ve gotta help me carry in the cake.” You smile and smack his shoulder, leading him back to Jane’s car where the door still hangs open. Jake takes a moment to gawk at the cake, shooting out brief questions about the half-empty apple juice and the odd, shitty drawings. You explain it briefly before deciding to start sliding it out.

Jake went around to the other side of the car, sliding awkwardly into the seat before lifting the cake from one side, you from the front. He has to stop for a second to get out of the car without dropping the cake.

It takes about ten minutes to climb the stairs carefully, more than a few close calls taking place. Jake lost his footing on the third floor and almost dropped the entire thing on you. On the fifth floor it was your turn to do that, which was an even closer call because he’s lower on the steps than you. Somehow you make it to the ninth floor safely, knocking on the door with your foot. Jane opens it carefully and let you both inside, and the cake ends up on the spot they cleared for it on the kitchen table.

All the kids run and gather around the massive cake, Dave sitting at the head of the table and wearing one of those stupid cone-shaped party hats (so is everyone else, wow do they look like dorks and you totally love it). He laughs his ass off and pulls the bottle of apple juice from the cake.

“A half-empty bottle of apple juice, I’m so flattered,” he laughs. He pops the cap open and starts to take a drink.

“Dave, what if that’s pee? It’s open, and look at the color!” John squeaks. Dave chokes on air as he sets the bottle back down.

“What? There’s _no_ way that’s pee, John,” Dave snaps.

“That’s toooootally pee, Dave,” Jade smiles. Dave frowns and puts the cap back on the bottle and sets it aside, managing to get frosting all over the table.

“I believe we all know what happens next,” Rose smirks, and she exchanges a quick glance with Roxy. The older Lalonde grabs a candle from the table and puts it right in the center of the broken record image, and Jane hands her a lighter. The single candle burns bright, and the kids run to shut off the lights and close the curtains. Everyone returns just in time, as you take a deep breath.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!!” you scream at full volume, a Strider tradition. Giggles break out amongst the kids, but they join you after that.

Dave manages to keep his poker face, but the candle makes it pretty obvious to you that he’s blushing throughout the entire thing. By the end of the song, where John yelled “and many mooooore”, Dave had to stretch a little to blow out the candle. We all clap and Jake flips on the lights, returning to your side with a huge grin.

“Let’s eat!” Jade cheers. You grab the spatula thing and cut out a slice, but Jakeinterjects.

“Should we eat something before having dessert?” he asks, and we all shoot an odd look at him. He just chuckles nervously and tells us to carry on.

Everyone gets cake and you make sure to cut Dave a piece first. Then you serve Jade, followed by the rest of the kids. After that you get John’s Dad, followed by Jane and Roxy. When everybody’s gotten their cake, you cut out a slice for you and one for Jake, leaving the mostly dismembered cake behind and guiding him to the couch. The kids are all sprawled out on the floor eating, and the rest of the grown-ups are silently eating their cake and apparently it’s delicious. You and Jake exchange a smile and occupy the last empty spots on the couch. You, Jake, and Roxy take the couch, while Jane and Dad are exchanging words on the loveseat adjacent the couch.

“This cake is delicious!” Jake exclaims, taking another bite. “Who made it?” You point your fork at Jane, who notices you pointing and grins at Jake. He smiles back and you can’t help the jealousy that builds in your chest. You take a bite of cake and try to ignore it.

“How did you two happen to meet?” Jake inquires, and you swallow before answering.

“Roxy and I hung out and we happened to stumble across Jane’s bakery, and it was cool because I knew John through my bro,” you explain. “We got talking and found out we both knew you, and Roxy and Jane actually used to be super tight.”

“And Roxy is…?” Jake wonders, an eyebrow getting friendly with his hairline because you just realized that you never introduced her. Roxy swallowed a mouthful of cake (most of it is mixing with her lipstick but you don’t tell her because wow that’s funny). She waves at Jake.

“That would be me. I’m Rose’s older sister,” she grins. “I’ve heard aaaaaall about you, Jake.”

“You look familiar…” Jake mutters, knitting his eyebrows together. Roxy smiles at him.

“Dirk and I work together,” she squeals, attaching herself to your arm. Jake’s cheeks heat up and you can’t help but take another bite of cake to keep your mouth occupied. “You’re welcome, by the by. I’m the one that pointed you out to Dirky here.”

“Oh, well...thank you, I suppose!” Jake laughed awkwardly, and you see Jane deflate a little at the corner of your eye. You push your shades higher on your face and swallow your cake, setting the now empty paper down on the shitty coffee table and standing.

“I’m gonna get some drinks for everybody,” you decide. The kids chant a thank-you (except for Dave and Karkat, who merely shrug). You stand and throw the plate away and dump the fork in the sink, retrieving the red solo cups and yelling to see if Coke is okay. The general answer is yes so you pour them all one at a time.

“Need some help, chap?” Jake asks, smiling at you. You smile back a little and nod, and he takes the other 2-liter from the fridge and pours the other half of the drinks.

“Is something wrong, Dirk?” Jake asks. “You used to be so chatty with me, but today you just seem sort of reserved.”

You can’t stop thinking about what Jane told you about his mom.

How do you even approach Jake, to tell him that you know? Would he care that you know, or was he keeping it secret for a reason? Should you confront him about it at all? You guess it shouldn’t really affect your relationship _that_ much, if there even is a relationship.

You’re acting ridiculous and deep down you know that, referring to Jake as if you two were a couple. Sure, you’ve done things, but you haven’t even had your first date yet and you certainly don’t count him hiring you as a date.

Would Jake mind if you kissed him right now? You don’t know the answer. And more importantly, you keep thinking about how he must have felt when his mom killer herself.

“Sorry, just a weird day,” you lie. “I’ll snap out of it, don’t worry.”

Jake grabs your arm and stops you from leaving the kitchen before your conversation has gone its course. “Is this about Jane?”

Oh yeah, you’d almost forgotten about that. The pressure of your intense jealousy every time they make eye contact and making you shovel down cake just to avoid yelling irrational at her. You don’t even have the right to be jealous because like you said, you can’t even call yourself a couple yet. You don’t think Jake thinks of you _that_ seriously, and all it’s going to do is mess things up even worse.

“It is,” Jake decides, your silence apparently the answer. He sighs and pulls you close, his hands around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. Your eyes widen behind your shades and you don’t respond for a few moments, but eventually your arms find their way around him as well.

“I liked Jane for a long time,” he whispers. “Back in school, when I didn’t really have anyone else. I really did.” He took a breath, pausing. “I was even about to ask her out, but then everything with my mom happened…” he paused again, taking a shaky breath. “Then you happened, and I...I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You stayed there for a moment, and you think Karkat almost walked into the kitchen before muttering ‘nope’ and turning on his heel back to the living room. You chuckled a little and pulled back.

You think this is an acceptable time to kiss him. So you do. And he doesn’t disappoint.

You’ll never get over how good of a kisser Jake is. You’d expect yourself to be better than him, but almost nobody kisses where you work and you’re glad. You’re glad because it makes this feel a thousand times better.

You break apart a minute later, taking long breaths and smiling. You press your forehead against his and now it’s his turn to smile.

“We should go back,” Jake whispers, and you nod against him. You each grab an armful of cups and bring them out to the living room, passing them out.

“You two have fun in there?” Dave asks, his eyebrows wiggling behind his shades. Jake’s face turns red instantly and you just shrug, handing a drink to Jane. She takes a sip and then sets it down, avoiding eye contact.

Well fuck, that just got worse. Karkat must have blabbed.

The party resumes, and Jake is more than happy to watch the rest of Con Air with the kids. You spend most of the evening apart from him, actually, because he’s amongst the crowd of children sitting on the carpet while you have idle conversation with the adults. Roxy and Jane catch up, and you end up talking to John’s dad quite a bit. Apparently he helped with the cake, and you thank him as you did Jane.

Eventually the movie ends and they instantly slip in another, and the cycle repeats. You and Jake go back to get more drinks for everyone (and kiss again, but luckily Karkat wasn’t around this time). As the credits roll on the second movie, Dave decides that it’s time for presents. You’ve barely thought about it all day, but you smile and head towards the back of the apartment and into your room.

You saved up forever to pay for Dave’s gift today, since before his _last_ birthday. He wasn’t overly thrilled with last year’s presents, mostly just clothes, but this year you plan to blow him away. You roll it out on the dolley and closer to the door, but you promised Dave that your gift would come last.

You return to the table, where the cake has been moved and replaced with the mound of presents. Dave sits back at the head of the table but this time, people sit down to watch him tear into the first present.

“Who is that one from?” you ask.

“That one’s mine,” John grins. Dave tears off the blue paper and pulls the lid off the box. The first item is a brand new switchblade, which Dave accepts happily and flips it around in his hand. The second is a pocket watch which makes Dave grin, checking the time on it and smiling.

He moves to the next present, this one from Karkat. Dave is happy to see a dead crow preserved in a jar to add to his collection of dead things, and you think Jane almost loses the cake she’s only just finished eating. Dave loves it, obviously, and sets it down beside his pocket watch.

Rose is up next, and hers got the best wrapping job. It’s flimsy when Dave starts to tear off the wrapping paper, and inside is one of the most god-awful Christmas sweaters you’ve ever seen in your life.

“I made it myself,” Rose states proudly. It was excellently made, but oh my God you think the snowmen are beatboxing and it’s just amazing. Dave hugs Rose and slips it over his head, slightly knocking his shades aside but he’s quick to fix them.

Jade is last out of the kids, and Jake has to set the box on the table because damn it’s heavy. You exchange a quick, knowing glance with the girl because you two worked together on this. Her gift hints at yours.

“Whoa, shit you went all-out,” Dave smiles at the large box. He rips the paper off happily and opens the case, revealing almost two dozen vinyl records.

“These are...holy shit, thank you,” Dave says. You take this as an opportunity to slink towards your room to retrieve Dave’s final present.

“They’re all blank?” Dave questions, and Jade nods happily. Dave shrugs and plants a quick kiss on Jade’s cheek, who burns bright red and hugs Dave.

You quickly get back to your room, and yell out at Dave. “Thank Jade for those records, Dave. You’ll need them!” You roll out the gigantic, horribly wrapped box and Dave’s eyes widen visibly, even behind his shades. You park the present at Dave’s side, and he slips out of the chair to start ripping off the paper. Apparently he’s not quick enough because Jade jumps in to help, followed by John. Rose and Karkat look on with amused expressions, while the adults all crane to try and see what the big deal is.

“This is...holy _shit!!_ ” Dave yells. The brand new, top of the line Turntables decorated with red gears under the records on the image.

“I know last year was sort of shitty, but it’s because I was already saving for these,” you explain. “I know money isn’t abundant around here, but I know that you’ve--”

Dave throws his arms around your waist and holy shit he’s getting bigger. You hug him back while the rest of the kids fawn over the turntables, ready to see them in action.

“You’ll have to see them another time, they’ll take a while to set up in Dave’s room,” you explain, receiving a collective groan from the kids. You smile and everyone sort of gets the feeling that the party is over. Everyone starts getting their coats back on and Jade keeps hugging Dave and reminding him to have a happy birthday, even though there’s only a few hours left of it.

“When’s your birthday, Jake?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“The first,” he answers, still looking at Jade and Dave. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“The first of…?”

“December,” he says flatly. Your jaw drops and you almost smack him.

“Your birthday was _three days ago_?” you gawk. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jake shrugs, cracking his fingers and resting them behind his head. “I don’t know, it just never occurred to me. We love holidays, but birthdays have never been celebrated as much in our family,” he explains. “After seeing this, though, I almost wish I’d had a party. This was really fun.”

You make a mental note to get him something, so you can give it to him on your date. Something small, so that Jake doesn’t make a huge fuss about it. But something.

“Well for what it’s worth, happy birthday, Jake,” you mutter, and sneak a quick kiss on his cheek. Jake blushes again and he tells you goodbye before grabbing Jade’s hand and exiting the apartment. As he’s about to leave, he leans in close to your ear. “I’ll see you on Sunday, Dirk.” You smile at him as he departs.

Everyone else leaves as well, Karkat the last to go because his dad was running late. You hugged Roxy goodbye and shook Dad’s hand (you can’t bring yourself to call him anything else). When you and Dave are alone, he runs to you and squeezes you in a hug. You grin and pick him up, crushing his ribcage and making him howl with laughter.

“Have a good birthday, Bro?” you ask and he nods happily. “I’ll set up your Turntables while you’re at school tomorrow.”

You retreat to your room and shut the door behind you, allowing Dave to do whatever he likes for the rest of the night (like he does every night, but you won’t tease him for it tomorrow). You curl up in bed and fuck around on your phone for a while before falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, Dave! I looked it up while writing this and realized that today is also Roxy's birthday, and Dirk's was recently and Jake's was Sunday and I was just like hot DAMN I missed them. So I'm changing their birthdays because it's my AU and I can do that :P
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! I hope you liked the chapter.


	12. Jake: Go on a Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys. GUYS. This chapter is a big deal.
> 
> Since the last update, this story has reached the beautiful milestone of 100 Kudos! It's currently at 106 and I'm so excited, and I can't just let that go uncelebrated.
> 
> There are any number of reasons you might be reading this, so let me explain. To celebrate reaching 100 Kudos, I've attempted my first ever Homestuck sex scene. It took a while and I'm really unsure of it but it's happened. If you skipped here due to my recommendation in the note of Chapter 1 because you're just here for the smut, you're gonna be able to skip quite a bit of the chapter before it happens.
> 
> This is actually my longest chapter to date, I believe, and I can't thank you guys enough. Without further adieu, please read and enjoy Chapter 12 of Sell Your Soul.

Your name is Jake English, and today is your date with Dirk.

You’ve been dying for today to come ever since Dave’s birthday party. Dirk had told you in a brief pesterlog that he had something special planned for your date, and you’ve been coming up with every possibility.

You know how Dirk likes doing things ‘ironically’, so he might go for something totally out there. Lazer tag and go-karts seems his style, because it’s childish and you’d bet he has something pink for the occasion. Or he might surprise, show up and say that you’re going out to a nice restaurant. Maybe even a movie, you really have no idea. But Dirk is picking you up in his car in ten minutes, and you’ve been ready to go for half an hour.

A knock finally stirs you and you calmly walk (run) to the door, stop to compose yourself, and open it. You’re greeted by Dirk, smiling.

_Smiling._

Not a little half-smile, or a smirk like he always does. A grin, stretched completely across his face, his eyes wide open and his eyebrows stretched well above his shades.

“Hey, Di--” you begin, but before you can finish even saying his name, a bag is thrown over your head and tied tight around your neck. You’re hauled over a lanky shoulder but it’s not Dirk because this person is much too tall.

“Sorry, Jake,” Dirk laughs. “And no, you can’t know who that is. It’ll ruin the surprise.”

You’re thrown into the back of Dirk’s car, bag still thrown over your head, and the door shut behind you. Dirk says a quick goodbye to someone and you try to shake the bag off your head, but it’s pretty well secured and you’d need your hands for that (which were just _fucking handcuffed behind your back_ ). There’s a snicker and Dirk shooshes the offending patron.

“Just so I’m clear, how many people are in this car?” you groan.

“Only us two and one more,” Dirk answers. You groan and sit up, still annoyed by the itchy burlap over your head.

“Okay, now what is going _on_ , Dirk?” you ask. Dirk laughs, and it’s a real laugh.

“You think our first date was going to be _normal_?” he cackles. “You insult me, English. You should know I’d be way more creative than that.”

You guess that it’s about twenty minutes before the car parks and the bag is taken off your head. You shake your hair out (you spent so much time on it, too) and look around.

Beside you in the back is Roxy, the girl you met at Dave’s party. You raise an eyebrow at her, and then at Dirk. They both smile while Roxy unlocks your handcuffs.

“What was the point of all this?” you ask, rubbing your wrists as their bindings are removed. “If you wanted to take me somewhere, you could have just asked.”

“Yeah, but this is waaaay more fun,” Roxy grins.

“Plus if you knew what we were doing, you would have said no,” Dirk says. You frown at him for being increasingly cryptic. They both nod to each other and exit the car, pulling you out beside them.

“The mall?” you ask, utterly confused by the whole situation. They both nod and each loop an arm through your own, pulling you towards the large complex.

You still have no idea what’s going on, but whatever. The two drag you inside without much protest on your part, out of curiosity if nothing else. You’re an adventurer before anything else.

You end up inside of a large store called Forever 21, consisting almost entirely of female clothing. A single section off to your right is filled with Mens’ clothing, however, and you can assume that it’s where Dirk and Roxy are taking you.

You are correct. As soon as you’re over there, they rifle over you and check the sizes of your shirt, pants, and shoes. Dirk took the opportunity while checking your pants size to cop a feel, and you smack his hand away which makes him laugh. Roxy checks your shoes and your shirt, and the two exchange and memorize the information before parting ways, leaving you standing alone in the middle of an unfamiliar store.

Not five minutes pass by before you’re being escorted into a dressing room with a pile of clothes. Most of the shirts are either tanks or V-necks, neither of which you are familiar or particularly comfortable with. As you try to exit the room, though, you find that Dirk is leaning against it and keeping you inside.

“Dirk, I haven’t an inkling of what’s happening,” you admit shakily, sliding your shirt over your head and briefly setting aside your glasses.

“We’re getting you ready for tonight,” Dirk summarized, and he doesn’t seem too keen on elaborating. You groan and slip a light gray tank over your head and take a look at just that in the mirror.

Your arms are cold and lifting them even a little shows people your armpit hair and it’s really uncomfortable, but Dirk and Roxy won’t be hearing any of that. You sigh and slip out of your shorts, stepping into the pants.

They gather far too quickly around your feet and it takes a few moments to get them around, but finally you manage. They’re far too tight on your legs and as you pull them higher it only gets more and more constricting. Worst yet, you can’t get them to go past your ass.

“Dirk, these jeans don’t fit quite right…” you say. Dirk sighs and starts to explain it.

“Yeah they do. Those are skinny jeans, you have to clench your butt if you’re gonna get into those,” he says. You frown down at the tight pants and do as he says. Surprisingly it works and you manage to button them but now your dick is getting way too comfortable with the zipper of these pants and Jesus Christ it’s hard to bend your legs.

“This is...weird…” you grumble.

“It’s the ball thing isn’t it?” he asks, and you mumble a quiet yes. He chuckles. “If your dick can breathe then they aren’t tight enough, rule #1 of skinny jeans.”

He finally lets you out and he and Roxy stand side by side, scanning glances far too similar to be a coincidence (you feel like they’ve done this before, maybe on each other?). They exchange a quick glance and nod collectively.

“What is this all about?” you groan.

“We’re making you hot,” Roxy giggles, high-fiving Strider who only smirks. “Let me tell you, Dirky and I are the _experts_ on sex appeal. The main thing is showing off what you’ve got and covering up what you don’t, it’s easy.”

“These pants hurt my crotch and the tank is far too revealing.”

“You sound like a girl, God,” Dirk chuckles. “The tank is to show off your arms and collar bones because they could make a fucking statue out of those things. The skinny jeans show off your butt.”

“Fantastic booty, too,” Roxy admits, receiving a nod from Dirk in response. Your face turns bright red as they circle and study you. “You look good without the glasses, too. Ever consider gettin’ contacts?”

“I used to have them but I always forgot about it and slept with my contacts in. Hurt like crazy, so I went back to having my glasses,” you explain. “Why are you making me dress like this?”

“Because you’ve gotta look your best where we’re going,” Roxy smiles. “We’re gonna show off the new Jake English. You’re gonna be the hottest guy at the--”

“Roxy, shoosh!” Dirk scolds, smacking her shoulder. She whines and rubs the afflicted area, muttering sorry and more than a few choice words under her breath. “Go try on the green V-neck and the white pants next.”

You do as he instructs, but Roxy and Dirk both agree that they prefer the tank over the V-neck, but they love the white pants. You go through outfit after outfit and you’re getting closer and closer to falling in your mother’s footsteps.

Okay that was in bad taste, but still.

Thirty minutes later, Roxy and Dirk are splitting the bill to pay for three pairs of skinny jeans and five shirts, four of which are those tanks and one is a V-neck (they still like the green one). After that they tell you to change into the first tank you had and the black pants and meet them at the car. You decide to just do as they ask because they aren’t telling you anything.

You climb into the backseat and manage to convince Roxy not to put the bag back over your head as Dirk speeds out of the parking lot. You continue to ask what’s going on, but no luck. They keep silent the whole way through.

They pull into Outback Steakhouse and drag you out of the car, grinning like idiots.

“Outback? Guys this is expensive,” you defend, but they ignore you and take you inside.

You’re rather distressed, and it’s not because of Dirk. It’s because of Roxy. Why is she even here? You were hoping for something far more...romantic, maybe? This is just kind of odd that she’s here. Isn’t ‘third-wheel’ a very common expression in this type of situation.

“Now close your eyes,” Dirk whispers. You sigh and close them, allowing them to slip shut as they lead you inside.

Rather than asking to be seated, Dirk, guides you by your hand further back into the restaurant. He guides you to a seat and you hear two chairs scoot out for Dirk and Roxy respectively.

“Okay, open your eyes,” Dirk says calmly. You face him and open your eyes, exchanging brief eye (shade?) contact with him. Your eyes scan across the table.

Gamzee, Tavros, Eridan, Sollux, Jane, Roxy, they’re all sitting around the table and watching you with smiles on their faces.

“Surprise!” they chant, and you feel your jaw drop.

“Dirk, what the--”

“You said you wish you’d had a birthday party,” he starts, his face heating up a little bit. “It took a bit of doing, and Jade told Dave all of your best friends and I asked them to come. It’s a little late, but...Happy Birthday, Jake.”

You grin and throw your arms around Dirk in a gigantic hug, followed by crashing your lips into his. Roxy wolf-whistles and Jane looks away, but the rest just keep smiling as you finally pull away.

A waitress comes and you all place your orders (you never go to Outback anymore, and it’s expensive, but you can never help yourself from a restaurant that serves steak). You also make sure to get an appetizer (dem cheese fries though) and cups.

You remember that you just turned 21 and ponder getting something alcoholic, but Dirk orders you a soda and politely dismisses the waitress.

“Dirk, I was still thinking!”

“You were looking at alcohol, you’re not drinking,” Dirk smirks. You glare at him and fold your arms over your chest, but quickly distract yourself by catching up with Eridan, Sollux, Gamzee and Tavros. Eridan and Sollux are good, about to celebrate an anniversary. Gamzee and Tavros are still best buds (there’s got to be something going on there...you’ve discussed it with Sollux in the past and he totally agrees).

You and Jane exchange words as you pick at the cheese fries (well Jane picks, you stuff). Dirk simply chuckled at you and Gamzee eating so much and ordered another plate of fries. Tavros cut the slices of that cool, brown bread and buttered it, passing the slices about for everyone to eat. We all chat and munch on cheese-covered fries and bread.

You think you should talk to Dirk more, because he’s the one who organized all of this. But people keep interrupting you and dragging your attention away and you get distracted really easily, alright?

When the food finally arrives, conversation stops almost completely as people dig into their food. Your steak is excellent and you think Dirk also enjoys his chicken, but he only eats half of it and shoves the rest of it away.

“Aren’t you gonna finish your food, Dirk?” you ask, only just swallowing a very large piece of your steak. Dirk shakes his head.

“I’m fine. I can eat the rest of it tomorrow,” he shrugs, and you can’t help but feel like Dirk is hiding something from you. You make a note to ask him about it later.

Everyone finishes their meals, and Dirk tells you that the night isn’t over yet. He nods to someone in the distance and a line of waiters and waitresses all came to you, carrying a piece of cake with a scoop of ice cream beside it. A huge candle sticks out of the cake and they slide it in front of you before beginning to sing. The rest of the people at the table join in, and you think even some other tables sing along to you. You blush and bury your face in your hands, trying to block out the howls of laughter from the crowd as the Outback employees applaud and return to their jobs.

Your friends each take a bite of your cake because you’re stuffed and wouldn’t be able to finish it all yourself. Jane praises the baker, Roxy just steals some ice cream, and the rest mostly just smile and make some sort of satisfied noise.

Everyone says their goodbyes except for Roxy, Dirk, and Jane, and you hug them all and thank them for coming to the party you had no idea was even going to happen. They smile and leave, and you look back to your friends who are all standing now.

You notice that not only are you, Roxy, and Dirk all dressed in such an odd way (namely, “hot”), but as is Jane. You sigh.

“Now can you tell me what we’re doing?” you ask. They shake their heads collectively and head towards the car (Eridan and Sollux split the cost of your meal, and you thanked them before they left but told them it wasn’t necessary). Dirk leads you out to his car and Roxy informs you that she’ll be riding with Jane, and you nodded.

Dirk takes his spot in the driver’s seat and you in the passenger’s. As you breath a deep sigh, Dirk leans over and presses his lips against yours.

“D-Dirk, what is all this about?!” you screech as he pulls away. He chuckles and rests a hand on the back of your neck. Electricity sparks where he makes contact and you smile back at him and rest your forehead against his.

“Just glad I get a moment with you to myself,” he whispers, pressing another kiss on your lips. You press back into this one and you feel his lip skim across your lips, and you open them up to allow him access. He smiles into the kiss and his tongue traces over the roof of your mouth. You return the kiss more and you’re really getting into it when a car horn breaks your focus.

“Come ooooon, slowpokes!” Roxy yells out her window, and Dirk swears under his breath and chuckles a little.

“There’ll be time for this later,” he whispers sensually, and chills run up and down your spine. You nod and Dirk follows after Roxy.

You’re...very surprised when you pull into a large, obviously popular nightclub. The line stretches around the front of the building, but Roxy and Jane are already walking straight towards the entrance. Dirk follows after them and he drags you by your hand to do the same.

People groan as the bouncer lets the four of you straight in, apparently knowing Dirk and/or Roxy already.The four of you enter with no shortage of groans from everybody in the line.

“How come we get in easy?” you ask Dirk, still in the quiet part of the bar with the bar and stuff.

“The owner is a former client of mine,” Dirk replies with a chuckle. “He’d like to keep that quiet, so we get in easy and free drinks.”

Your breath catches in your throat as Dirk mentions a former ‘client’. You don’t want him talking about his job, ever. You don’t…

Is it right for you to say that you don’t want him to do his job? If not for his job, you don’t think you’d ever have met him. Well, you probably would have, through Jade...but not like this. If you hadn’t met the way you did, you’d probably have never even thought about him this way.

The way that you do...it feels so natural. You can’t believe you turned him down originally simply because he’s a guy. It just seems like a waste of time you could have spent with him.

Dirk leads you over to the bar. The bartender obviously recognizes Dirk and sets two shots on the counter without a word. He thanks him and tilts the shot back, downing it instantly. You swish it around a little, feeling a bit anxious.

“Nervous to drink again, English?” Dirk mocks. “I remember you being a total lightweight. When did you even drink before the bar?”

You swallow nervously, starting to move the shot closer to your mouth. “Just a few times in high school, nothing substantial.” You tilt the shot back and let the liquor slide down your throat, burning horribly but the taste was fantastic. You cough a bit and Dirk smiles at you before ordering two more.

“One more for the road,” Dirk says, raising the new shot as if to toast. You grin stupidly and clink your shot against his and tilt it back, the burning less painful this time. Dirk grabs your wrist and leads you back over to Roxy, who is already a bit buzzed (she had a martini at Outback), and Jane who you’re positive won’t be drinking. The four of you all go out to the dance floor together.

You don’t recognize the song because there aren’t any lyrics, it’s all dubstep blasting loud in your ears. Your head is already getting a bit foggy from those shots, but the bodies around you keep touching you and it’s making you nervous. Dirk grabs your hand and runs his thumb over it, guiding you further into the crowd.

You lose Roxy and Jane in the chaos but Dirk refuses to let go of your hand. He pulls you right to the heart of the floor when he lets go, only then turning back around to face you. His stupid pointed shades reflect the lasers that shoot through the air. Dirk starts to dance to the beat, moving a bit slower than the rest of the crowd but still looking fucking fantastic. You shuffle your feet awkwardly enough to where someone blind might consider it dancing, but Dirk simply laughs and takes your wrists.

Your hands are guided to his hips and some sort of odd grinding that makes you a little hotter under the collar than you’d like to admit. This goes on for quite a while, and eventually your lips find his and even Dirk is surprised, his eyes quickly shutting and tongues battle on the dance floor. Eventually he pulls back, eyebrow quirked and rather confused.

“As awesome as that was, is this really the place for it?” Dirk asks. The two of you stand still, awkwardly, at the heart of the dance floor. You shake your head.

“I suppose not,” you groan loudly, defeated. Dirk suggests getting another drink and you nod in approval as the song comes to an end. The two of you go off the same way you began, Dirk leading you by the hand. The bartender seems a bit pissed to be serving his third round of free shops but is forced to stay silent, you suppose. You simply shrug it off and down your third shot, followed shortly by your fourth. Dirk was satisfied at his third.

“Dirk this is...super fun,” you comment, telling nothing but the truth. Your thoughts are cloudy and you really feel like kissing Dirk again but you just want to thank him first.

“Well it’s your birthday party and you’re twenty-one now, I figured you’d want to drink a little,” he chuckles. “You feeling alright?”

You hug him tight and your lips find their way to Dirk’s neck and he shudders, surprised. He sends a quick text to Roxy over your shoulder and takes your hand and leads you out to his car.

…

You are now Dirk Strider, and you are already making out with your boyfriend before you even make it to the car.

Huh...boyfriend. One date and you’re calling him your boyfriend? That’s sort of clingy but oh well, you’ve got better things to think about right now. Like how fucking good Jake’s lips feel and the fact that his hand is travelling downward at an excitingly fast rate.

You don’t even know what to do with yourself, why you’re so excited. You’ve had sex a thousand times with just as many people, several times a night when you’re working. You don’t know why your heart pounds when he touches you, or why his tongue skimming across your lip makes you feel like you’re going to pass out(in the best way, of course).

“Jake, can you leave me alone long enough for us to get in the car?” you ask, your own mind starting to fog from that second round of shots. You know you shouldn’t be driving, but it’s not far and you’re in the city. You have to drive slow anyway, you’ll be fine.

Jake (sadly) pulls away from you, walking briskly to the other side of the car and climbing into the passenger seat. You get in and his lips are on your neck by the time you can even start the car. Seriously, Jake? Give a guy some time to breathe, jeez.

It’s a miracle you make it home in one piece, because your eyes keep rolling into the back of your head as Jake places sloppy, drunken kisses along your jawline. You park the car hastily and you only have time to lock it before Jake is pulling you towards the stairs. You laugh and follow him up to your apartment.

Luckily the door is unlocked and the two of you make it inside quickly, and you shoosh him before leading him to your room quietly. You peek in Dave’s room and see that he’s already asleep with a pair of headphones he got last Christmas from his friends. You know for a fact that they block out a lot of sound.

That’s probably a good thing, you realize.

You close (and lock) the door to your room behind you and Jake seems to have sobered up at least a little bit, because he’s smiling sweetly at you as he pulls you over to the bed. He pulls you on top of him and your make-out session commences, starting sweet but very quickly getting more heated. He opens his mouth to you submissively and you know that you’ll be topping again, which you are more than okay with as you help Jake remove his shirt (easy, he’s still wearing that tank you bought him)..

More kissing, and it’s a couple more minutes before Jake strips you of your own shirt. Cold air hits you and you shiver, but every part of you that touches Jake is burning. He’s warm, you realize, and not just regular; like, _way_ warm. And now that the lights are on, you wish you’d turned them up a bit that night at the bar.

Jake is fucking gorgeous with his shirt off.

His muscles are tightly lined but not bulging to the point where they’re in the way. You could grind meat on his abs and his arms are killer and you never thought you would feel self-conscious in the bedroom but _damn_ , son.

Unfortunately for the both of you, getting your pants off is double the task due to drunkenness, sloppy makeouts, and skinny jeans. Jake’s came off first and you could barely distract yourself enough to not laugh at his boxers with binoculars on them because who even buys those.

You make a note to yourself to get those off soon.

Jake is panting and at some point he made his way on top of you, and your pants are unbuttoned but they’re really fucking tight and being annoying.

Jake takes this moment to realize that you didn’t wear underwear tonight but hey, that’s your business. Jake blushes and while he’s sort of distracted, you palm him through his underwear. He groans and his forehead ends up against yours some how as you continue to palm him, kicking your pants off somewhere else in the room. Now you’re lying underneath him, totally naked, and he’s only in his underwear and a pair of socks.

Jake takes a moment to discard his socks but gets self-conscious when he goes to remove the rest. You smile and remove your shades, blinking a few times as the world gets a bit brighter. Jake blinks too and as he removes his glasses, you prop yourself up and kiss him gently. He leans into it, lust forgotten for the moment (on his part), and you slip two fingers into his waistband. He blushes as you pull them down to his thighs with a smirk.

You curl your fingers around him and stroke gently, watching him shiver under your touch. You smile and continue to stroke him, sluggishly increasing your pace. He groans and thrusts into your hand, desperate for you to speed up, but no. You’re not getting paid this time, and you plan to drag this out as long as you can.

You stop and roll over, placing yourself on top and crashing your lips against his. He shudders as you squeeze him, slowing your pace teasingly and you hear him grunt in frustration. You’re teasing him and he knows it, and you can’t help but adore his reactions.

He breaks off with a frustrated sigh. “For fuck’s sake, Dirk, you’re such a tease,” he chuckles. You nod and squeeze, watching him clench the sheets with pleasure.

“Just relax, Jake,” you smile, planting kisses along his jawline and traveling down his neck. He moans as your tongue ghosts teasingly across his nipple. He winds his fingers in your hair and the pull has you at full sail.

Well shit, never knew you liked that until now.

“Dirk...Dirk hold on for just a moment,” Jake stops, and you pull away slowly from his chest. You raise an eyebrow at him and he’s panting a little. You rest on your elbows on either side of his head.

“Dirk...I may still be sweating out those shots, but…” he hesitates. “You’re not paying any attention to yourself, are you?”

“Does it matter?” you chuckle. “You’re obviously enjoying yourself...just be a little selfish, alright?”

“No, Dirk, this is important!” he says, stopping your wrist as you reach to grab him again. You look up at him with wide eyes; he’s the first person who has ever stopped you like that.

“You only know how to pleasure other people, don’t you?” Jake whispers. Your eyes drop to your sheets, embarrassed, and your response is little more than a whisper.

“It started out like that,” you chuckle sadly. “I tried to enjoy it. But I found that...people came back when I payed more attention to them. Kept us alive, me and Dave. I haven’t enjoyed sex...like, _really_ enjoyed it in a long time. You were close, but...”

“Dirk...if you don’t enjoy sex, why are you here?” Jake whispers shakily, and you can tell that you’ve ruined the mood. You should have just kept going despite his protests and talked about it afterwards.

“It just...seemed like you wanted it. It was the right thing to do.”

Jake sighs and cups your face between his hands, leaning up to kiss you softly. You lean into it and don’t even notice when Jake’s hand finds its way to your now-flaccid erection, coaxing it to life.

“This is different, Dirk. You’re with me, not a ‘client’,” he spits, perhaps a bit possessively. “When you’re with me, you make sure that you enjoy it as much as I do. Okay?”

You nod just as Jake starts to pump you, and you shiver and almost fall straight on top of him because _fuck_ that feels good. He kisses you again and you open your mouth readily and if you weren’t who you were, you’d almost expect Jake to top. Your tongues battle and sometime later you start pumping him as well.

He’s...oh dear God this is a lot better than at work.

You eventually have to stop because you’re getting close and the night has only begun. You retreat to the bathroom and retrieve a bottle of lube (you were saving it for work but fuuuuck that) and a condom, and hurry back.

Jake is waiting, on his back with his legs spread apart. You suppose he remembers how this goes from last time. You swallow, already coating three of your fingers thickly with the lube.

“This is going to hurt more than last time,” you apologize ahead of time. Jake’s eyes widen.

“What? Shouldn’t it be easier?!” he complains.

“It’s been a long time, and I’m willing to bet you haven’t done anything back there since last time,” you explain. “It’s okay. We’ll go slow, alright?”

He nods, and you ask him to spread his legs just a little bit wider. You start with your middle finger, slowly entering and feeling him tense around the digit. Jake seethes and grips your shoulders, and you lean in close and press your lips together. You wait for him to loosen up before pressing in up to your knuckle and Jake squeaks under his breath, trying to avoid making too much noise. You pump a couple of times and try to stretch him, and soon you can tell that Jake is starting to enjoy it.

You slip in the second finger before he gets _too_ comfortable (if he gets too used to that, the second is just going to be more of a surprise). He tenses and you can tell that it really hurts, but he melts quicker this time than he did with your first finger. You scissor him out and try to prepare him, but that’s removing his pleasure and bringing back the pain.

“Dirk...it hurts, please…” he mutters, and you see tears beading at the corners of his eyes. Your heart drops and you push your fingers deeper rather than around, looking for his prostate. Jake squeezes his eyes shut as you force your way in, gasping for air that looks like it isn’t coming easily.

You’re throbbing at the sight of it...but no, your pleasure comes later.

Your finger brushes against something and Jake’s hips lift off the mattress, a loud moan slipping past his lips. You silence him with another kiss because Dave’s headphones only block out so much noise.

“Dirk...Dirk I can’t stand this,” he gasps. “Please, just go…”

“You sure bro?” you ask, and he nods sheepishly. You shrug and tear the condom open with your teeth. Jake watches you with half-lidded eyes as you roll it on. Your hands are shaking because holy _shit_ you’ve never worried so much that you’re not doing a good job. Are you paying too much attention to yourself? You didn’t even realize you were stroking yourself a little while you were working on stretching Jake.

Jake rests his own shaking hands on yours (though he’s not shaking nearly as bad), He helps you roll it on and your skin is burning hot where his fingers touch. He smiles (you can tell he’s still drunk, good lord what a lightweight). When it’s secure, Jake takes the initiative to slather lube all over it and rub it in, shaking the excess onto the floor before lying back down. You swallow nervously and place yourself at his entrance, watching him squeeze his eyes shut, knowing what’s coming.

The head is harder to get in than you remember, but Jake was more smashed then than he is now and he’s tensing against you. You plant kisses along his jawline and suck gently on the skin, trying as best you can to distract him. You wish he would have just let you continue preparing him, the third finger is the one that gets him ready for your size, but he didn’t care and he should have. In hindsight, he _is_ drunk and his judgment is lacking...but it’s too late now. You keep pressing into him, and it’s an agonizingly long time before you’re completely inside.

“Okay, just give me...I need a moment,” Jake pants, covered in sweat. He’s obviously in pain and you continue to plant kisses along his neck and stroke him very gently to keep him in attention. Minutes later, Jake nods to you and you start to retract, stopping just before your head comes out and then slowly pushing back in. His walls tense around you and swear to God you about lose it to that feeling, but you slow down just to keep yourself at bay.

“Okay, I’m ready, Dirk,” Jake says, short of breath and starting to like it finally. You smile and press one kiss to his lips before picking up the pace.

One brush against his prostate and Jake is a shuddering, moaning mess beneath you. Every time his body shakes you have to keep yourself from moaning as well because Jake’s moaning is loud enough when you’re not adding to the mix.

You’re getting closer, and this has been an embarrassingly short time for you given how good you’re supposed to be at this. But Jake had the right idea; you like it better this way. Being the one pleasured is phenomenal, and honestly you don’t think you can go back.

You start going faster and Jake pulls you down and tries to kiss you between his moans and fails pretty miserably. His nails drag down your back so hard that your back will be red for days and you couldn’t care less because Jake’s inner walls keep getting tighter and tighter around you.

You both know that you aren’t going to last much longer. Your hand flies to his neglected hard-on and starts pumping in time with your now viciously-paced thrusting. Jake gasps as your fingers curl around him, his hips lifting off the mattress and allowing you to go even faster. His head turns to the left, right, to the left again, completely lost in the feeling and moaning almost continuously. His voice shakes each time you slam against his prostate, now with nearly every single thrust. He’s close, so close.

His walls tighten and you know it’s starting, so you crash your lips against his in an attempt to muffle it. Your noses collide a little but the pain is overridden by the feeling of Jake clenched so tight around you that you can barely move. He moans into your mouth as he finishes, the sticky substance splattering messily between your chest and his, slipping into the crevices between his abs. The sight of it is too much for you and you moan as you cum inside of him, Jake’s entire body shuddering in time with yours as you ride it out with a couple of sloppily-aimed thrusts.

You hover over him for a somewhat awkward amount of time if either of you weren’t too tired to care. Normally you’d already be up for round two by this point but you’re sweaty and covered in Jake’s cum and you don’t think you’ll be doing much of anything else tonight. You rest your forehead against Jake’s and he groans as your now softening dick falls out of him, the horribly messy condom gently being pulled off. You tie it and toss it into the garbage can near your bed, and try to wipe off some of the shit on your chest on a napkin with nearly no success. Jake sighs contently, shifting slightly to his side to give you space to lie down.

“Wanna take a shower?” you suggest. Jake chuckles breathily and shakes his head.

“That sounds amazing, Dirk...but I don’t think I can stand up,” he admits. You want to take one, though, Jake got it fucking everywhere and your sheets are entirely wrecked too. You get an idea, smirking down at him and scooping your arms underneath him. Jake gasps as he’s hauled into the air, and you carry him bridal-style to the bathroom.

You might live in a shitty apartment, but you made sure of one thing when you found this place; a man needs a good shower, and the bathroom is the most updated room in the house. It’s one of the nice ones with a bench inside, perfect for this situation because not only can Jake not walk, but just getting Jake in there is a chore because your legs are shaking the entire time.

Luckily your clothes are already disposed of and you gently set Jake down on the bench. He yelps a little in protest because holy _shit_ you did a number on him, but he manages to adjust to where he’s comfortable (enough). You turn the water on cold because both of you are still burning up and covered in sweat, and a collective sigh of relief can be heard as it makes contact with your skin.

You take care of yourself quickly and Jake doesn’t seem to mind as he enjoys the cool water. You scrub your hair hastily and make use of the body wash, cleaning your pits and all the rest. You smirk when you notice Jake enjoying the show, and even make a point to bend over to wash your legs just to make him laugh.

“You’re oddly comfortable all of a sudden,” you chuckle. Jake raises an eyebrow at you. “You turned me down just because I”m...you know, a guy. And now you’re just gawking at me, fresh out of fucks to give.”

Jake chuckles and you sit down behind him, a glob of shampoo already in your hand. You start scrubbing his hair and he sighs before responding to you.

“It was more the concept of it at first,” he chuckles half-heartedly. “Couldn’t wrap my head around it. Me, Jake English, with another man? Poppycock! The idea of it was all just so ridiculous to me.”

You swallow and rinse your hands of the leftover suds before dipping Jake’s head into the stream of water, letting the pressure the shower remove all of it. You scrub it again to get it all out.

“But I just...I don’t know if something changed, or if maybe you’re a special case? I can’t even imagine myself with another man. Any time I’ve thought about it, all I could think of was--”

You don’t let him finish, pressing a kiss against his lips and cutting him off. He squeaks a little in surprise before melting into it happily, and you feel him smile. You don’t smile, though. You pull away too soon and look him in the eye.

“I don’t want you thinking about another man. Just me,” you tell him. “Just me, okay?”

“Getting a little possessive, are we Dirk?” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You smile sheepishly and reach for the body wash, pouring a large glob of it into your palm.

“Well I’ve never had a boyfriend before. It’ll be nice keeping one to myself,” you say. You’re expecting a laugh from Jake, but when you turn back to him to scrub his back, his jaw is slightly agape and he’s looking at you weirdly.

“Did you call me...your boyfriend?” he asks, choking on air a little bit. Blood rushes to your face and your lungs feel heavy all of a sudden.

“Is that...not okay?”

“No, it’s...it’s perfectly fine,” Jake smiles, slowly widening a bit more as he pauses. “In fact, I rather like the sound of that.”

“...boyfriend,” you repeat. You’re still wrapping your head around it, that Jake is totally your boyfriend holy _shit_. “Boyfriend.” Jake smiles again and you hug him, rubbing the body wash into his back in gentle circles.

You spend the rest of the time in the shower washing him in silence, both of your faces plastered with smiles. Any time your face lingers within a few inches of his, one of you can’t help but place tiny kisses on the other’s lips and smile, God you smile so much during just this one shower.

You try to distract yourself while you wash Jake’s chest because holy shit it’s not easy. You’re starting to feel that round two coming on but Jake is exhausted, his eyes half-lidded and getting heavier by the second. His head even drops as if asleep but he catches himself, rubbing his eye and yawning. You smile and shut the water off, retrieving towels for each of you.

You dry his hair and he leans back against you, and the blue towel pulls all of the water out of his dark brown hair. You smile and dry the rest of him off quickly because he’s starting to crash, his head leaned against the damp glass and his eyes shut. You dry yourself twice as fast and scoop him up again, hardly worried about if he’s hurting because he is out like a light.

You squeeze him back into his underwear for the sake of his dignity when he wakes up, and find a pair of your own to slip on as well. You lay him under the covers and situate yourself behind him. You end up with his hair in your face but it smells like your shampoo and you like the smell of your shampoo on him, an odd sort of feeling that makes it like he’s claimed.

Damn you are clingy. Oh well. You still smile as you draw the blanket over the pair of you, and drape your arm around him and you guess he’s still sort of awake because he curls one of his hands into yours. He doesn’t turn to you, but you see just the slightest tinge of pink on the edge of his ears.

You now realize that you left the lights on, son of a bitch.

You’re too comfy to move, though. Jake is here and he’s warm, so you curl around him and shut your eyes tight, allowing the deep, steady breaths of your boyfriend to lull you closer to sleep.

Boyfriend...that word again. That’s your last thought before falling asleep at last, a smile on your face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can tell I sort of ran out of gas at the end, but altogether I'm very pleased with this chapter! I hope I did good with the smut, I'm sorry if it wasn't D:
> 
> Anyway, I'm feeling a special chapter coming on. I have plans for the future of this story but I don't plan shit out like I really should, I basically just write and try to steer it in the general direction of where I want it to go. I believe I'm going to elaborate on one ship that's already been hinted at, and introduce another one that I think is in the tag but hasn't been played on at all yet.
> 
> Thank you guys so much for all the support you've given my story, I'm seriously so amazed that it's come so far. You are all my internet friends and I love you. Please continue to leave Kudos and comments as you continue to (hopefully) enjoy Sell Your Soul. Adios!


	13. Jane: Cry in a Nightclub

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me longer to write than I thought, but it's here!! This chapter is another special with not ONE SPECIAL PAIRING...
> 
> BUT TWO!
> 
> The first is fairly obvious, Jane and Roxy, but the second hasn't even been alluded to this entire time. It's been in the tags but I failed to incorporate it up until now. So enjoy!

Your name is Jane Crocker, and you are currently crying in a nightclub.

It’s just awful, isn’t it? This is a place for fun, to forget your troubles and grind all over somebody and just lose yourself in music, alcohol, and hormones.

None of it matters, because Jake left. With Dirk, to make matters worse.

You and Roxy spent ages looking for them, scanning the dance floor from every high point you could find. When you gave up, Roxy said she would call him, only to find a text from an hour prior, saying that they needed to leave because Jake was already smashed.

Roxy, also intoxicated and you remember very well that her verbal filter melts away along with her sobriety, made a very blunt comment. Something along the lines of “at least someone’s gettin’ lucky”, but even drunk she managed to catch herself pretty quickly. Your heart dropped into your feet and it weighed them down, because all of a sudden you didn’t feel like dancing.

You felt like crying. So you did, and you are.

You’re still crying.

Gah, it’s so stupid! You spent years of your life, your young life, madly in love with Island Boy over there. And when you thought it would never happen, you tried to forget. You dated, followed a bit too closely in Roxy’s footsteps for a while.

You couldn’t forget. And now...it’s worse watching him with someone else.

You just never thought it would be a male prostitute. The irony of it all is simply awful.

“Oh, Janey…” Roxy sighs, dragging you outside and into her car. You wipe away the tears, and the two of you just sit there for a while. Roxy doesn’t say anything for a long time, she just rubs small circles into your back.

“I’m sorry for ruining the night, Roxy,” you whisper, and she shakes her head and pulls her hair back into a ponytail.

“You didn’t ruin nothin, Janey,” she replies. “I just don’t get it, ya know?”

“What do you mean?”

“Jake. I don’t get what you see in him,” she sighs. “Sure he’s nice and he’s got a totes great bod, but he’s sorta stupid, ya know?” Roxy pauses and takes a sip from the water bottle that she left in the car earlier. “Well not really stupid, just sorta naive. Like a lil kid.”

“Jake is...he’s the most fantastic man I’ve ever met,” you smile sadly. “He’s so...pure, I guess? There’s not a mean bone in the lad’s body. Pure good.”

“Nobody’s perfect,” Roxy sighs, and tosses the empty bottle out the window and rolls it back up. “Janey...I’ve been with a lot, and I mean a _lot_ of guys. I’ve seen ‘em in every shape, size, and color. The big guys with tattoos and have probably killed a guy or two in the past.” You flinch but Roxy keeps at it. “Then there’s the little geeky ones, kinda like Jake, that look like they’re so good. But no matter how you slice it, they’re still paying to get their dingy sucked and fucked.”

“Roxy, language!” you scold. Hearing about her job is bad enough without the vulgarity along with it. You swear as well but good God that was just gross.

“Well, it’s true,” she shrugs. “But if you’re looking for Mr. Perfect, you’re wasting your time. Nobody’s perfect, get used to it.”

Roxy turns away from you and you can’t help but feel your heart stop for a few seconds. That was rather cold of her, wasn’t it? You know that already. You probably needed to hear it, too, but Roxy’s never acted this way towards you.

“Roxy, is something bothering you?” you ask. Roxy sighs and nods.

“Yeah, I’ve got my own shit, too,” she sighs. “Doesn’t matter, though. I’ll get over it.”

“Roxy Lalonde, you are sitting here trying to help me forget about Jake and I’ll be _damned_ if I leave you hanging high and dry like this,” you snap. How dare she! You go to her with your problems, and she just keeps secrets from you!

She turns back to face you with the most serious face you’ve ever seen on Roxy Lalonde. Her eyes seem dead, the usually vibrant pink toned down to something else that you don’t think can be explained. Her hair is still in that messy ponytail and her chin is dipping and her head down.

“Look, Janey, there’s...there’s this guy, okay?” she begins. “And he likes someone else, too. And he always talks about how great the other one is and leaves me just sitting here.”

“...well if you ask me, this man is rather rude and isn’t worth going after,” you snap. “They should be able to pick up on what you’re feeling, and blabbing on about some other lady is simply uncalled for! Rude.”

Roxy nods in agreement and starts the car in silence, driving back towards the bakery.

You can’t stop thinking about Roxy’s mystery fellow. Is it Jake, too? You certainly hope not, because Roxy is going to end up in the same situation as you.

More than likely she’s talking about Dirk, you think. It’s the obvious option; they work together, and they see each other all the time. The two of them have so much in common that it’s uncanny, and you think they would be rather cute together.

Perhaps getting those two together would be a very good thing...perhaps this is your inner competitor coming out of you, but those two getting together would mean Jake would have to separate from Dirk. You need confirmation that her crush is actually Dirk, though.

“Hey Roxy,” you begin stiffly, speaking after such a long silence feeling pretty awkward. “Tell me about this guy.”

“Huh?”

“The boy you like,” you elaborate. “Tell me about him. What’s he like?”

“Oh. He’s…” she pauses with a smile. “He’s something else, I tell ya. Totally out there, keeps living like he does no matter what happens. He’s living his dreams and couldn’t give a fuck that it was really hard gettin there. But he’s so strong, and smart, and adorable to be totally honest.”

“I bet he’s quite the looker,” you giggle.

“Oh, he definitely is,” Roxy smiles, perking up for the first time in a while. “He’s got this hair, and these eyes...his glasses are even cute.”

Oh yeah, it is _so_ Dirk.

“He’s not what you’re probly thinkin’, though,” Roxy comments. “He’s got some love handles on him. I can’t even picture him without them, because all I’d want is to cuddle with the sumbitch. He’s just...perfect.” She blinks a couple times. “Well, not perfect. He’s got his rough edges like anyone else.”

“Like what?”

“He’s...he gets sorta jealous,” Roxy continues. “Always has, always will. And he’s so proud to the point where it’s kinda annoying sometimes, but it’s also really cute.”

“He sounds fantastic,” you smile. Internally, though, you’re freaking out because _dammit_ it’s not Dirk. He’s so thin and she mentioned love handles, and you can imagine that Dirk’s “love handles” are literally his hipbones and nothing else. Maybe not even muscle, the guy is sorta scrawny. So who could it be?

“Hey Jane,” Roxy says suddenly, interrupting your thoughts. “When Jake told you that he’d slept with Dirk, how did you react?”

“Well after the night at...at the bar, Jake stayed the night with me,” you begin. “He didn’t explain it to me until the morning, poor boy was totally exhausted. But aside from being more than a bit frustrated with Dirk, who I’d never even met at the time, I...sort of just played it off. I listened to Jake try to justify his sexuality, pretty awful attempt at it too.” You giggle half-heartedly. “It just made me feel sort of useless, I guess. Doesn’t make much sense, though.”

“Yeah…” Roxy sighs, looking out the window. “I guess not.”

…

Your name is Aranea Serket.

You’re the teacher of Dave Strider. His brother didn’t show up for that parent-teacher conference, the only one that didn’t show. You’re not sure why that aggravated you so much, but it did.

If you didn’t know so much about his home situation, you wouldn’t have cared. You could have assumed any number of things. Work, traffic, anything. But you’ve heard far too much about what his brother is like.

You assumed his career would be something distasteful. Grave digger, male stripper, _something_. You wanted to find out. You pulled a favor from the Vice Principal and managed to get some information on the garage he works at. So you went there, and met an acquaintance of his named Equius. Aside from being a bit brutish, he was actually quite polite and managed to point you towards Dirk’s apartment.

Then you followed him.

You know you’re being ridiculous. Getting this involved in a student’s personal life is probably illegal, much less following them and stalking their family. But you’ve never been able to sit idly by while a student goes without. Mostly it’s little things; an extra carton of milk in the cafeteria, another roll of bread. Nothing that would get you in trouble.

But this is different. As soon as you’d heard about Dave’s brother, this ‘Dirk’ character, you were livid. The nerve of this guy! Dave needs proper care like any child, and you will make sure that it happens!

You sigh heavily, preparing yourself, as you step into the shady bar. Dirk entered here last night dressed less than pleasantly, and a passerby told you that the bar is a major spot for prostitution. That would explain Dirk’s outfit; despite the cold, he’s wearing little more than some skinny jeans and a V-neck shirt. His hair was styled to absolute hell and those outlandish glasses…

Oh whatever. You step inside of the near-empty bar. The only residents are the occasional patron, often in groups except for a rather depressed looking man towards the back. A woman with long braids sits at the bar, chatting with the bartender happily.

“Excuse me, miss,” you begin, poking the braided woman’s shoulder. She turns and raises an eyebrow at you, her dark brown braids flipping against the wooden bar lightly. Her dark skin on her forehead wrinkles as she looks at you.

“What’s up?” she asks casually.

“I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of the owner of this bar,” you begin, flattening your dress nervously. The woman sighs and pats the seat next to her, which you accept silently.

“What do you need the owner for?” she asks.

“I wanted to speak with him about one of his workers, one Dirk Strider,” you explain. “I have a certain...connection with his younger brother, and I need to discuss their home situation.”

“Dirk?” the woman asks, taking a sip from her beer. “Never heard of him.”

“Which is why I need to speak with the owner, miss.”

“Well you’re talking to her,” she snaps with a smile. “Meenah Peixes, at your service.”

“O-Oh, well then!” you stutter, extending a hand out to her. You’re surprised; this woman with the huge braids owns this? Prostitution or not, you’d expect someone a little more...refined to run a business. Even an illegal one.

“So yeah, Dirk. Don’t know him,” Meenah shrugs, sipping on her beer lightly. “Don’t know what you’re lookin’ for, sweetheart, but he’s not here.”

The two of you chat for moment, but Meenah continues to defend her stance that she doesn’t know Dirk. You saw Dirk walk in, and the way he was dressed...there’s no way he’s not a prostitute.

“Look, sweetheart, I don’t know what you’re goin’ on about!” Meenah finally snaps. “And even if he did work here, why would I tell you?”

“Because his brother needs help!” you yell back. The bar goes silent, and Meenah takes your wrist and leads you back to her office.

Well, you thought it was an office. But stepping inside there isn’t a desk, but vanity mirrors. Several scantily-dressed ladies hover between the stations, preparing their own and each others’ hair and makeup. You spot a blonde in the back that looks disturbingly like Rose Lalonde, but you ignore it.

What are the odds of _two_ prostitutes being your kids’ guardians?

“You’re embarrassing yourself, lady,” Meenah tells you. “Dirk doesn’t work here. These girls will tell ya.” Meenah turns to the crowd of hookers. “Hey, any of you know a guy named Dirk?”

“DIRK!?” somebody yells, and you jump at the high-pitched voice. The blonde stumbles out with a martini in hand, perfectly done makeup and hair already in place. She’s wearing a purple scarf and an extremely short dress.

“You know him?” you ask, but Meenah covers the woman’s mouth.

“No no, Roxy is simply drunk,” Meenah cackles, and tries pushing away this ‘Roxy’.

“Hey, I know you!” Roxy says, pointing a masterfully manicured finger at you. “You’re Rose’s teacher. Did ya know she’s mah lil sister?” she babbles. “We’ve talked before, I think...yeah we had a conscience! Conference.” Her eyes cross a little as she corrects herself and you think she’s about to throw up.

“Oh but yeah, Dirk is my boy,” she continues and Meenah is facepalming with both hands at this point because you’ve caught her in her lie. “He’s working tonight, I think. Should be coming in anytime.”

“You should go,” Meenah insists, grabbing your wrist and guiding you back towards the main part of the bar. Meenah pushes strong hands against your back but you sidestep and stay inside the makeup room.

“Absolutely not!” you snap. “I need to speak with Dirk immediately!”

Meenah smirks and releases you, folding her arms over her chest. “You’re spunky, ya know that? Fine, screw it. You can wait here until he shows up.”

You sit in the corner of the large room for several hours. Most of the women ignore you entirely, simply entering in a state much less pleasant than when they had left, fix their appearance, and exit again. Roxy makes a point to chat while she fixes her hair, and she really is very kind, but you find it awkward to speak with her considering her line of work. You feel like you’re intruding, not to mention the topic of this entire situation’s illegality.

These people are having sex continuously, and then coming back in here like nothing happened. The thought of it is mind-boggling.

Meenah makes herself scarce, returning to her office or wherever she goes to do business. She might just be getting more beer, you don’t even know.

It’s been about two hours when she finally returns, two beers in hand. One is opened, the cap discarded somewhere, and she offers the second to you, which you refuse politely. You’re fine with drinking socially, but beer is...well, gross.

“So what’s your deal?” Meenah asks, taking a swig. “You come in here and ask to speak to one of my boys, but you haven’t told me shit about yourself. How do I know you’re not a fed?”

You smile and shake your head. “I’m afraid you’ll have to take my word for it, then. I’m not with the police. I’m a school teacher.”

“What grade?”

“Fifth,” you answer. “Dirk’s brother is in my class, as well as Roxy’s sister. I was nervous about Dave’s living standards because I’d heard rumors about Dirk. Little things, stuff about his family life. I was concerned.”

Meenah makes a sound that you think means understanding while she takes another drink. “So how’d you find this place, anyway? No offense, but it doesn’t really look like your scene.”

You blink at her a few times. Your _scene_? What is that supposed to mean?

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to, Ms. Peixes.”

“Oh come off it, it’s Meenah,” she waves you off. “But you know...look at you! You’ve got the dress, the lipstick, the dorky librarian glasses--”

“Hey!”

“You’ve got this charming, geeky thing going on,” Meenah cackles at your reaction. “And they’ll eat you alive in a place like this.”

The two of you chat for a while, and eventually Meenah fetches you a martini (much better; Roxy’s looked delicious). You grow to like Meenah, really. She’s extremely sarcastic and most people would refer to her as a bit of a bitch, but you just find her entire demeanor hilarious. She talks about her pets, because apparently she has the better part of an entire aquarium at her house and she loves it. You two exchange fish puns and the onlooking prostitutes roll their eyes except for Roxy.

The two of you are in fits of laughter when Meenah looks down at her intricate watch. “Dirk should be here any minute,” she tells you, and you smile. This has been pleasant, much better than you’d expected, but the problem is still at hand. You need to speak with Dirk.

“He’s a good guy you know,” Meenah tells you. “Dirk, I mean. He takes care of his brother.”

“You’ve met Dave?”

“A few times. Invited me to his birthday party a few years back but it was kinda awkward because Dirk had to keep his job a secret,” Meenah shrugs. “He’s a good kid. Kind of an ass, but he’s nice enough when he wants to be.” You giggle and nod, completely in agreement. Dave is one of your troublemakers, but he’s still a good kid.

“They’re doin’ alright for themselves,” Meenah continues. “Hey, have you heard anything about a Jake English?”

“Jake? Yes, he’s the uncle of another one of my kids. Why?”

“Just some chatter I hear from the girls. Roxy in particular when she’s particularly gone,” Meenah chuckles a bit. “I think Dirk and him might be a thing.”

 _Really_? Jake? He was very charming when you had your conference with him, but was a bit of a doofus. You were almost hoping he would ask you on a date, and you thought he was going to. Maybe you killed the mood by bringing up Dave’s brother?

Wait...Dave’s brother and him may or may not be a couple, now. Jake must have taken what you said into consideration at some point. Does he know that Dirk is a prostitute? It certainly could complicate things.

“I have this policy,” Meenah begins, disturbing you from your thoughts. You turn back to her with a slightly bewildered expression.

“A policy?”

“More like a philosophy, really,” Meenah shrugs. “We don’t sell love here, we sell pleasure. But people tend to mix those up, myself included. I don’t claim to be a genius about all this, I just collect the money.” She takes a sip of her beer and sets it aside, empty. “I don’t want my employees to mix them up. So if you have a relationship, like a _real_ relationship...you’re out. I think monogamy is important, ya know? Even if it’s not love here.”

You’re silent for a long time, and you cross your legs uncomfortably. “Well I doubt it means anything coming from me, but I think that’s a very good policy.”

You feel your cheeks heating up, and you cough a little to clear your throat. “Not that I support this sort of an institution! It’s illegal and immoral!” you declare. You and Meenah smirk at each other before bursting into laughter again.

Maybe you’re not the cookie-cutter librarian character that Meenah thought. You have your opinions like anyone else.

The door swings open and a tall blond steps inside, this one male. You look up to him, straight through his triangular sunglasses and into his eyes. His eyebrows raise far too high to be coincidental, but all you can do is smile up at him.

You stand and Meenah does as well, and Dirk swallows nervously in front of you.

“Hello, Mr. Strider, I don’t believe we’ve met,” you begin, offering him a handshake. “My name is Aranea Serket, Dave’s school teacher.”

“...I can explain,” is all he says, and you smile and shake your head. “I wanted to speak with you since you didn’t show up for our conference. Were you ill?”

“...not exactly,” he blushes, but you can’t do anything but smile.

“I’m not angry, just an observation,” you retort, and you realize that you’ve actually become _that_ kind of teacher. “I just wanted to get some coffee. Would you join me?”

Dirk and Meenah exchange glances, and the woman nods. Dirk shrugs and gestures for you to follow him, claiming that he knows a place nearby. You thank Meenah quietly, but she just shrugs and allows you to turn away.

She takes that opportunity to land a very loud, painful slap on your ass. You squeal, but it’s quickly overshadowed by Meenah’s cackling. Dirk simply smirks and you have to hide your red face as you run out of the bar, Dirk hot on your heels.

…

Your name is Dirk Strider.

Aranea smiles nervously as you exited the bar, still recovering from Meenah’s brutish flirting. You smile and tell the teacher to follow you, and the pair of you walk in silence.

You don’t know why she’s here. She can’t just be here about a conference that you missed, how did she even find out where you work? Something’s not right here and it’s making you nervous. She knows what you do now, she was getting really chummy with Meenah. _Really_ chummy, if Meenah slapping her ass is any indication.

The two of you finally arrive at the small cafe and order your respective drinks. You order a regular cup of coffee while Aranea gets one of those overpriced Frappucinos (she’s such a white girl). The two of you take a seat outside, the dark air around you cold but the entire place is packed. The light pouring out from the dirty window and a streetlamp are the only sources of light as the two of you talk.

“So I wanted to talk to you about Dave,” she begins, sipping her frappucino. “He’s a...well, he’s a very nice boy. A bit of a loudmouth, but he’s not unmanageable. He’s doing very well in my class, actually.”

“If he’s doing so well then why are we here?” you snap, a bit harsher than you meant it. Aranea sighs and sets her drink aside.

“I wanted to speak with you about your job,” she begins. “Now, I’ll admit, I had a less than positive outlook on your career. I’ll admit, I still don’t approve. But what I care about is that Dave is cared for.” She pauses for a moment, watching you sip on your coffee. “Is he?”

“...we get by,” you tell her. It’s true, you’ve kept him alive for years. You had to save up for an entire year to get Dave’s turntables, and God the kid is in love with the things. You’ve caught him up hours into the night with headphones plugged into the system, doing God knows what on them. You’re pretty sure he’d put a blanket over it and curl up in bed with it if he could.

“That’s good to hear,” Aranea smiles. “Does he ever...go without? You can be honest with me, Dirk.”

“Not really. I’d go without before him,” you admit. “I do take care of him, you know. The kid’s all I’ve got.”

“Well, not _all_ you’ve got,” Aranea smiles knowingly, and you raise an eyebrow at her. The hell does that mean? “Meenah said you may have something going on with Jake?”

**_Oh shit._ **

If Meenah knows, you’re in deep shit. Meenah won’t let you work if you have a relationship, you’re gonna get fired for sure. Maybe you can dismiss it as a rumor? There’s no way she knows for sure, she only met Jake that one time when he came in with Sollux. Has Jake been back? You doubt it, he doesn’t even like what your job is.

Maybe Roxy was running her mouth? You love the girl but she’s a loud drunk. And Roxy is _always_ drunk, if she can help it. If she was blabbing, word probably got around to the other girls. And Meenah always pays attention to the girls’ talking.

She knows. You’re certain of it.

“Meenah told me about her dating policy,” Aranea states, spooning some whipped cream off the top of her drink with her straw. “Tell me, Dirk. If you were to suddenly be...out of employment. How would you care for Dave?”

“...I don’t know.” You really don’t know. What would you do? You could try robotics again. You think you still have some blueprints stuffed away, some that could make money with the right start. Some investors, you could really get something.

“I’d...start on my robots again. Work on cars, do something,” you simplify. “Whatever keeps Dave alive.”

“Alive and living are two very different things, Mr. Strider,” Aranea says. You’re really not a fan of this condescending bitch, but bite your tongue as she stands to leave. “I should let you get back to work. Feel free to call me if you need anything, Dirk. And I mean that.”

She pats your shoulder and retreats down the street, slinging her purse over her shoulder and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

...you need to talk to Jake.


	14. Jake: Celebrate Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my fucKING GOD THIS IS SO LATE I'M SORRY! For some reason this chapter would not flow right, it was painful to get out and honestly it's probably not my best work but it's here okay. I'm already working on the next one so HOPEFULLY the next update won't have such a long break /shot

You are now Jake English. It’s been a while, right?

You were up late with Jade, helping her with her homework. It’s been a long time since Jade has needed your help, and even longer since you learned any of this stuff, but you manage to help her with long division and get her off to bed at about ten.

You return to your computer before retiring, checking for any messages or emails. Dirk had pestered you from his phone at some point, but has apparently logged out since you’ve been away.

timeausTestified [TT] began pestering golgothasTerror [GT]

TT: Hey Jake, you there man?  
TT: Alright well it’s been like five minutes so I guess not.  
TT: We need to talk, alright? It’s important.  
TT: So schedule some time for a feels fest. Bring tissues and ice cream.  
TT: Actually scratch that I’ll get the ice cream, just tissues.  
TT: Okay I’ve got to go. Bar’s getting crowded. Later.

timeausTestified [TT] ceased pestering golgothasTerror [GT]

What is that about? Dirk seems rather calm, but whatever it is sounds important. You leave him a brief message that you’ll pester him in the morning and lie down to go to sleep. It takes you a while because your mind is alive, thinking of Dirk. What does he need?

It’s a long night of tossing and turning when the sun is finally up, all the persuasion you need to crawl out from under the covers and back to your computer. Dirk is usually online right now because he’s probably just getting home from work. He always checks his computer before going to sleep.

Unfortunately he’s offline, an odd occurrence. You try not to think about it as you climb into the shower and get ready for the day. You don’t have anything to do today so you don’t bother styling your hair, allowing it to fall down in your face like it naturally does. Jade is still sleeping but it’s Sunday and she doesn’t have school today. You let her sleep in.

You’re pulling on a bathrobe when a knock arrives at the door. It’s 7:30 in the morning, who the hell could that be?

You pull the robe tightly over you and peer through the peek hole thingy, seeing a pair of triangular shades and a head of blond hair. You open it silently and let Dirk inside.

“Dirk, what are you doing here?” you ask quietly. Dirk raises an eyebrow at you.

“Why are you being so quiet?” he asks in his regular voice, and you shoosh him with your finger.

“Jade’s asleep. Come on, let’s go to my room.”

You lead Dirk to your messy room and the two of you sit down on the bed, Dirk instantly removing his shades and setting them aside.

“I got your message, Dirk,” you start. “What’s up?”

“Sorry, I forgot the ice cream,” he chuckles. Dirk buries his face in your shoulder and pushes you back onto the bed, curling up beside you.

And he cries.

You couldn’t even _imagine_ Dirk crying before now. He’s always so sure of himself, always confident. He’s strong, he’s smart, he’s bloody perfect. But now he’s just a sobbing mess.

“Dirk…?” you mutter.

“I got fired.”

He...he what? He’s not a prostitute anymore?

“I don’t understand,” is all you can say. Dirk just shakes his head and pulls you into his chest, your hair still wet and probably getting ten ways of fucked up but you don’t care. You feel water dripping down the back of your neck and you don’t know if it’s from your shower.

“What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t fucking know, okay?” he snaps, and you flinch. Dirk immediately pulls you tighter and mumbles apologies into your hair. You wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest, breathing it in and letting him cry.

“Dirk, tell me what happened…” you plead. Dirk shakes his head and you poke his stomach. It retracts back and his spine bends, and you smile. He doesn’t.

“Meenah doesn’t let me work if I’m in a relationship,” is all he says. Your eyes widen and Dirk holds you closer somehow, your back starting to hurt but it doesn’t matter because it’s your fault.

Dirk doesn’t have a job because of you.

What could happen because of this? There’s no way that unemployment checks can pay for his apartment. What about Dave? He has to stay in school, he needs supplies, clothes, food. Dirk will have to find another job, but nothing will be able to add up with Dirk’s last job unless he hits it big.

“I’m gonna start fixing cars,” Dirk says. “Work full-time at the garage. Equius can hook me up.”

“Is that enough?”

“...we’ll need a cheaper apartment. Dave can deal with it, I don’t have a choice,” he says softly. “I’ll take on more hours. Maybe work corners at night if it gets bad.”

“Dirk...can I be honest with you?” you ask. Dirk nods into your hair and you sigh. “I’m not glad you got fired, but I’m glad that you aren’t a prostitute anymore.”

He’s quiet for a long time. You think he’s fallen asleep, actually, except for the occasional sniffle and readjustment. He breathes you in and the air passing through your hair feels nice. After such a restless night, you’re feeling tired again now that Dirk is here.

He’s warm. You’re crashing, you can feel it. Dirk might be doing the same, you think, but you keep poking at his stomach to keep him awake. The two of you have some stuff to talk about.

“You could stay here,” you offer. Dirk freezes and doesn’t respond, and the small circles he’s started rubbing into your back halt abruptly.

“...Jake we’ve been on one date. I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Dirk says, his hands continuing on your back. You shrug and pull away from him, sitting upward.

“It’s not a big deal. The place is paid off so I don’t really worry about rent and stuff,” you explain. “Besides, Jade and Dave get along really well.”

“Yeah, but they’re _dating_ ,” Dirk chuckles, wiping the last remnants of tears out from behind his shades. “And so are we, which in itself is sorta weird.” Dirk pauses for a bit, slipping his shades off at some point. “Hey Jake, how did you even get this place?”

“Oh, it’s, uh…” you pause, rubbing the back of your neck. “It was my Mom’s. She never really stayed here, but yeah, it was hers.”

Dirk stays silent for a long time. Eventually he lies back down on your bed and you follow suit, facing him and the two of you just sort of look at each other for a while. You take it all in, noticing the stubble that he’d missed on his chin and that his sideburns are just a _little_ bit darker than the rest of his hair.

“Does it feel weird? Living here?” he asks lowly. You shake your head quickly.

“No. This house doesn’t feel like her, you know? After I got my own place, she and I had a falling out and we never really got back to the way we were. She stopped staying here altogether, and it sort of fell into the background.”

“How do you pay for it?” Dirk asks you. “I mean, I don’t recall you ever mentioning a job or anything.” You can tell Dirk is trying to change the subject, and he’s fidgeting a little in his spot awkwardly. You sort of like the change of pace.

“I did. After she passed I just sort of stopped showing up,” you chuckle. “Got fired, obviously. Grandma’s been helping me out while I look for a new one.”

“...any luck?” he asks. You shake your head sadly. “Then we’ll find something for you, too.”

“...yeah. That sounds good.”

…

Weeks passed. Dirk eventually had to accept your offer when the only cheaper apartment was in a...less than desirable place. Dirk, naturally, would have been fine with it, but Dave’s face upon seeing it was priceless to say the least. The younger Strider was very excited to hear that he and his girlfriend would be living together. You and Dirk eventually did find jobs. Dirk ended up taking on a full-time position at the mechanic, with occasional private lessons with that Equius fellow to improve Dirk’s skills in robotics.

You end up as a waiter at this far-too fancy restaurant, but the tips are killer and you can’t believe Dirk managed to exploit yet _another_ former customer to get you the job.

Before you know it, there’s snow on the ground. It’s not much, because getting any snow at all is rare enough in itself around here, but it still gets the both of you in the mood for Christmas.

“Hey Jake,” Dirk asks, drawing your attention over to the couch. Ever since he moved in, that’s been his place of work whenever he feels like working on that robotic nonsense. Right now he’s fiddling with an arm or something, adding screws and wires all inside and just looking at it makes your head start to hurt.

“What is it, Dirk?”

“What do you want for Christmas?”

It’s a simple enough question. You haven’t been a hugely festive lad this season, usually you’ve already put up the tree and decorated it. But Christmas is in one week and your house remains entirely undecorated aside from a wreath that isn’t even hanging up (honestly you’re not even sure where that came from).

“I don’t know, chap. I’m really not that up for the Christmas season this year,” you admit. Christmas has always been a family thing for you, and after your Mom’s passing, none of you have really been up to it. Jade has been wondering about the tree, and you’ve finished your Christmas shopping, but decorating hasn’t been on your to-do list in a while.

“Well fuck that,” Dirk shrugs, setting down his parts and starting to clear the table of parts and shove them into a box. “English, we’re getting you into the Christmas spirit. No buts about it. Grab your keys.”

“What? Why?”

“Gonna get a tree, and you’re coming with me. Let’s go.”

Dirk insisted on taking your truck so that the two of you could go and get a real tree. Not at a lot, no, he wants to drive your truck into bumfuck Egypt and chop one down himself. A real Christmas Vacation moment, this is. Chevy Chase is the shit.

Three hours later, you and Dirk are fuck deep in the woods looking for the ‘perfect tree’. You’re not really into it as much as Dirk, though, which goes against everything you know about him. Usually he’s reserved, quiet, and altogether bored unless it’s about something he’s interested in. Christmas never really felt like his forte.

“What’s going on with you, Dirk?” you ask. Dirk pulls his orange coat around himself a little tighter around himself, watching his breath through his shades. “You’ve never made any sort of opinion clear on Christmas, why are you being so adamant about it now?”

Dirk stops and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. Once you found out that Dirk smoked, you’ve been begging him to stop but he’s set in his ways. You gave up eventually, but you convinced him not to smoke in the house so that it’s not around Jade.

“I don’t know, you’ve just seemed really down lately,” Dirk shrugs, grabbing your hand with his free one (the other is holding his newly lit cigarette). “I know it’s hard going through holidays without your mom. I’m just trying to help, I guess.”

You and Dirk walk for a long time in silence, and you refuse to let go of his hand. He finishes his cigarette and flicks it into a small pile of snow, and you take the opportunity to plant a kiss on his lips. He tastes like smoke but you make an exception for how disgusting it tastes. It is Dirk, after all.

He pulls away from you with a smile, looking to his left knowingly. You feel your eyebrow raise and turn to face it.

“The perfect tree,” he smiles. It’s smaller than most, small enough that it’ll actually fit in the house comfortably. It’s perfectly shaped and most people would kill for this kind of tree.

“I love it,” you admit. “Did you bring an ax?”

“An ax? Please,” Dirk chuckles. Dirk shifts through his strife specibus and pulls out a fucking katana.

“Dirk that is never going to w--”

Dirk flash steps straight towards the tree and cuts a straight line through the bottom of the trunk. He even manages to captchalogue the entire tree before it hits the ground, and you’re left standing in the snow alone, while he walks back towards you with a small smile on his face.

“Ready to go?”

“What...how did you…”

“Don’t question it, English. What self-respecting Strider can’t cut down a few trees?” he smirks.

“You’re saying Dave could do that?”

“Of course.”

“And your parents?”

Dirk goes completely silent, avoiding your eyes. He offers you his hand and begins to lead you out of the forest.

“Dirk, why don’t you talk about your family?”

“...not much to discuss.”

You and Dirk have been dating for a while now, but he’s never once brought up his family. Does he have any other siblings? Cousins? Not even a word about his parents, and at this time of year, that’s not something that should happen.

“Tell me about them.”

You and Dirk keep walking, and there’s another long pause. Dirk goes for a cigarette but the two of you exchange glances. He knows your opinion, and slips the pack back into his pocket.

“My mom’s in her forties now. Blonde hair, like me and Dave. Curly, though, which we never got. Dad’s fifty, brown hair. He’s huge, built like a brick shithouse.”

“What are they like?” you urge. Dirk’s jaw tightens and his hand gets painfully tight around yours.

“Assholes.”

He doesn’t elaborate. You urge him to continue, and rub your thumb over the back of his gloved hand over and over (you’ve noticed he likes that, for whatever reason). The two of you make it back to the car and Dirk sits silently in the passenger seat while you start the drive home.

“I want to meet them.” You drop the bomb suddenly, but Dirk doesn’t turn to face you. He keeps looking out the window blankly, hiding his face from you.

“Don’t bother. If you say you know me, they won’t even let you in the door,” he scoffs. You sigh and stop at the red light, scratching the back of your head awkwardly.

“Dirk, tell me what happened. I want to know.”

“Why? Why are you so interested all of a sudden?”

“I can’t be with my parents on Christmas, and I hate the idea that you can’t either!”

Dirk’s eyes widen and he just watches you for a while. Is he mad at you? You really hope not, the last thing you want during Christmas is you and him arguing.

“They live in Dallas, Texas, where I was raised. Even if they’d have me, I wouldn’t make the trip.”

Dallas. You commit that to memory in case you ever need it. If something happens, you’ll need his parents’ address. You can probably find a Facebook profile or something.

“Well the least we can do is send them a Christmas card. Let them know you’re still alive,” you offer.

“They kicked me out years ago, Jake, I don’t think they could care either way.”

“I’m still sending a card.”

“Whatever.”

The rest of the ride is awkward, and silent. Dirk barely looks at you but you try to ignore it.

Back at the house, Jade is bouncing off the walls to hear that you finally got a tree. You and Dirk set up the tree quickly and fill up that bowl thing that keeps it hydrated. Dave and Jade fetch the ornaments and the star.

Jade turns on Elf and the four of you get to work on the tree. Some of the branches weren’t quite strong enough for the heavy ornaments so it took some searching. Dave says that even he and Dirk have a few ornaments, consisting of designs with broken records and shitty drawings from Dave’s webcomic. They’re added to the tree, of course, and by the end it’s perfect.

Dirk started talking again during the decorating. He smiles and even took his shades off after a while, which is rare (Jade actually gasped). You see his eyes pretty regularly, but it was Jade’s first time seeing the odd orange color.

“Jake, do you want to put the star on?” Dirk offered. His fingers brush across yours a little as he hands it to you, and you feel your cheeks heat up. Dirk smiles and sets up the step ladder, allowing you to climb to the top of the tree. The Star fits perfectly, and Jade applauds you as you step down. Dirk immediately grabs you by the waist and pulls you into a kiss, to which you halfway cough into his mouth into surprise and he pulls away almost instantly.

“Dude. Gross.”

“Your fault for scaring me.” You smile and kiss him again.

Christmas Eve came quickly after that. You and Dirk spent the whole day decorating while Jade and Dave went to a birthday party. Wreaths, tinsel, the works, and your whole house is doused in Christmas lights in a single afternoon. Honestly you’re surprised how effective this flash stepping business is, because most of the place is done in a little under an hour.

You, Dave, and Jade are all dressed up for a Christmas Eve party at the Lalonde house. Roxy insisted on having the whole crew over; the kids on one side of the house, the adults on the other. You’re sure that there’ll be alcohol and Dirk seems to be looking forward to seeing Roxy again.

Dirk enters the kitchen with the most ironic Christmas sweater you’ve ever seen, and hands you a matching one.

“We are not wearing matching sweaters,” you grin, shoving it back at Dirk.

“Come on, boyfriend, humor me,” he teases. He smiles against your mouth and practically forces you to kiss him, and he slips the sweater over your head as soon as you break apart. You scratch at the neck and frown, but Dirk pulls you out towards the car.

At the Lalonde house, which is surprisingly large, Roxy greets you at the door with a martini already in her hand. Rose is standing behind her, who smiles softly and invites Dave and Jade into her room where Karkat and some others are already waiting. Jane is standing inside the kitchen when you and Dirk are led inside, chatting with a tall man that you recognize as Karkat’s father.

“Hello, everyone!” you smile as you go in. Jane turns to you and grins, and she’s the first to throw her arms around you in a gigantic hug. Kankri, the tall guy, shakes your hand. Roxy hugs you from behind which promptly scares the shit out of you and everyone laughs.

“So how ya’ll doin?” Roxy asks. Dirk shrugs and throws an arm around you.

“Doin’ fine, Rox. How are things at the house?” he says. Jane looks away from you and suddenly his arm feels very heavy on you. What was that tension you just felt?

“Pretty dull. Girls still ask me how you are sometimes, Dirky,” she winks. “I tell ya, lots of em’ still want to sleep with ya.”

“Sorry, tell them to get in line. I only sleep with Jake,” he smirks. Your face turns red instantly and you stomp on his foot.

“Down, boy,” you tease. Everyone laughs but Jane who is still leaning awkwardly on the counter, staring into her drink. You’re surprised; you admit, it’s been a while since you and Jane have had a day together, but she seems distant entirely. She’s always been sweet, what’s going on with her?

Roxy passes around a few beers and you happily open one up. Dirk got you hooked on the stuff pretty soon after he moved in, and you’re glad you can drink it without getting entirely shitfaced in two seconds. Roxy immediately suggests beer pong and wasn’t taking no for an answer; she already set up the table.

Dirk somehow convinces you to go first against Kankri. Neither of you are experienced drinkers but somehow you manage to win. Roxy offered to play the winner and destroyed you in record time. Dirk gave Roxy a run for her money but eventually he lost, too. Jane simply laughed at our wins and losses, rooting for Roxy nine times out of ten.

“That was super fun!” you exclaim. You grin and for some reason Dirk pulls you into another kiss. You enjoy it for a few seconds but pull back regardless, smiling.

“What’s gotten into you tonight?” you chuckle. Dirk just shrugs and puts his arm around you as Roxy leads you into the living room where the kids are already waiting to watch a movie.

They’re playing a classic; Christmas Story. It’s the most overdone Christmas movie ever and you all agree that it’s perfect for the party.

Roxy and Jane go to make a few bowls of popcorn, and the rest of the kids retreat to Rose’s room to fetch pillows and blankets for the movie. You and Dirk are left alone with the exception of Kankri who’s been blabbering on the phone for ten minutes with some Cronus fellow.

“Why have you been so affectionate tonight?” you ask, and Dirk just shrugs.

“Just making sure they know you’re mine,” he smiles, but you push him back a little.

“I don’t think anyone is questioning that, Dirk, especially now,” you tell him. “Is something wrong?”

Dirk simply shrugs and puts his arm over your shoulder, ignoring your attempts to shake him off. He knows you’re upset; what is even up with him? Dirk is _never_ this affectionate, especially in public.

“Dirk,” you say firmly. The blond sighs and turns to face you.

“Sorry, it’s just...I’m trying to hook up Roxy and Jane but I think Jane likes...me,” he says.

Oh! That’s rather surprising, actually. Dirk never seemed quite like Jane’s type. You’ve attempted to hook Jane up with quite a few guys but she’s never taken very well to them.

“You really think those two could get together?” you ask, and Dirk nods.

“Roxy likes her. A lot. I think Jane likes her, too, but she’s seriously hung up on...me,” he explains. You readjust yourself as the girls return with the popcorn, the kids storming back into the room a few moments later.

As the movie starts, you lean up into Dirk’s ear and whisper something to him. “ _You’re a good friend, Dirk._ ” He turns to kiss you before returning his attention to the movie.

The movie is fantastic, as always, since you’re a sucker for the classics. Everyone began saying their goodbyes and sliding on their coats. Karkat and his dad are the first to leave because Kankri has to work again in the morning (he seems like a busy guy). Jane and John are the next to go but Jane’s face is red as she ushers her nephew out the door.

“What was that about?” Dirk asks her. Roxy blushes a little, too, then.

“That’s none of ya’ business, Strider,” she defends. You and Dirk exchange a knowing smile.

“Roxy, am I to assume that you’ll probably fired soon as well?” Dirk asks, wiggling his eyebrows. Roxy rolls her eyes with a smile and smacks his chest.

“Meenah’s term is ‘encouraged retirement’,” she says, and the two of them share a laugh. “I’m gonna do catering at Jane’s Bakery, we already worked out the details.”

“Glad to hear it.”

You all hug her goodbye and lead the little ones out to Dirk’s car quickly to avoid the cold. Jade babbles the whole ride home about how much fun she and Dave had. You smile back and encourage her to continue, and looking over, even Dirk is smiling as she goes on and on and on.

“So did you all have a good Christmas Eve?” you ask as Dirk parks his car in the driveway. Jade cheers a riveting ‘YES!’ while Dave nods (you think he jumped when she yelled oh my God). “Well that’s fantastic, then. You two scamper off to bed before Santa gets here, alright?”

Jade scrambles out of the car and straight to her room, where she’s sure to toss and turn for hours before actually falling asleep. Dave glances between you and Dirk.

“Isn’t she a little old to believe in Santa?”

“You ruin this for Jade and I’ll have your head.”

“Alrighty then,” Dave chuckles as he, too, climbs out of the car.

You and Dirk head into the house, both exhausted and ready for bed. Dirk helps you out of your clothes and you’re batting him away with a stick (metaphorically) as you crawl into bed, far too tired for what he has in mind.

“Another time, okay Dirk?” you beg with a smile. “I’m beat.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dirk sighs, defeated. He snuggles up against you, big spoon, and you happily little spoon this shit out of him.

“Merry Christmas, Jake.”

“Merry Christmas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will not be a special chapter as I had been planning for a while, but it does start the next arc of the story that will probably lead us into the finale. A HUGE timeskip is about to occur where the two have been dating for quite some time. Anyway, please comment and kudos because it inspires me to write <3 Thank you for reading!


	15. Jake: Meet the Fockers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FAST UPDATE  
> WOW  
> SO SURPRISING  
> MUCH AMAZE  
> WOW
> 
> I managed to get this chapter out so fast because inspiration hit me like a BRICK FUCKING WALL :D I've had this chapter, and the proceeding chapters, planned since day 1 so you can expect my updates to come pretty quick from here on out alright alright alriiiiiiiiight (been watching Kevin Hart, that's where that came from). 
> 
> This story has a few good chapters left in her and I intend to make them glorious. Enjoy!

Your name is Jake English, and it is New Year’s Eve. Not the one you probably think it is, though.

Since that first Christmas with Dirk Strider, you have shared two more. It’s your third New Year’s Eve together.

That’s right. You and Dirk have been dating for over two years. Time certainly does fly.

You’re all gathered together. You, Dirk, Roxy, Jane, Gamzee, Tavros, Eridan, Sollux, and even Meenah and Aranea, of all people, in the biggest, gayest New Year’s Eve party ever. The kids, now in 7th grade (hardly even children anymore, it feels like), are all at their own New Year’s Eve party with some friends from school.

Ten minutes before the new year, everyone is gathered around Roxy’s large television on her equally-large couch. You and Dirk are sitting in the center flanked by all of your friends, all in similar positions.

Jane’s bakery took off after Roxy began her catering business, so much so that Jane had to sell the old place to buy a bigger one. She still did a majority of the baking herself, but Gamzee and Tavros started working there. Tavros handled catering with Roxy and Gamzee did the baking. Apparently, he makes one mean motherfucking pie.

Roxy and Jane are dating now, they have been for almost a year. There was a lot of ping-ponging last year about how Jane felt, because apparently Dirk was only sparing your feelings when he said that she liked him; she liked _you_. But after far too much internal struggle, she finally said yes.

Eridan and Sollux moved away together, but still come back for the holidays. You wish you got to see them more, but they’ve never been happier (whatever they count as happy works for you) and that’s good enough.

If you wouldn’t believe it, Meenah and Aranea are also a couple now. Aranea is still teaching and Meenah is still running her prostitution ring, and at first glance it is easily the most dysfunctional couple of all time, but the two of them fit so perfectly together that nobody has ever questioned it. A match made in weird, prostitute heaven.

You and Dirk are doing better, as well. Dirk doesn’t work at the garage anymore; he doesn’t have to. Thanks to Equius’ robotic lessons, Dirk is now going to conventions and expos to show off his work. He made two, fully functional robots that can participate in rap battles, most certainly the first of their kind. He even made a copy of his own personality in a pair of those silly shades of his that have become sort of a trademark of his.

One minute until the new year, and all of the couples are preparing for their New Year’s kiss. Gamzee and Tavros are ahead of the game, but everyone else is watching the ball and holding each other’s hands.

Twenty seconds.

Dirk is looking at you, fidgety for once. He’s never nervous to kiss you but you like to think that these kisses are special. What else could it be, right?

Ten seconds.

You close your eyes and press your forehead against Dirk’s. You hear his breath hitch a little and you’re starting to wonder if something’s wrong.

You decide just to ask him. “Something wrong, love?”

“...never been better,” he smiles.

In that moment, the ball drops and whoops are heard across the room. Dirk doesn’t kiss you. In fact, his forehead falls away from yours but his hands stay tight around yours.

You open your eyes to see nobody in front of you. You look further and further down.

Dirk is kneeling in front of you.

“Jake English, will you marry me?”

The room goes totally silent, jaws dropped and eyes wide all across. It would seem that Dirk didn’t spread the knowledge around.

You don’t even...know what to think. Why now? After three New Year’s Eve’s together, he picks today to propose to you, surrounded by your friends.

“I know I don’t have a ring...but honestly, I don’t know if guys do the whole ‘Engagement Ring’ thing or not.”

He’s so perfect. His hair, his eyes, the way he laughs, when he holds you. He’s warm and you never stop being around him. You’re lonely when he’s away on his convention trips when you can’t go with him.

“Jake, I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Are you crying? You think you’re crying.

“Jake?”

“Oh my God stop talking, yes!” you scream, still crying, and crashing your lips together with a massive grin on your face. People cheer and ‘WHOOP’ around you and at some point you think you tackled Dirk on the floor when you kissed him.

Your mind races at a million miles per hour. What do guys wear at weddings? God forbid Dirk wears a dress but that seems like something he’d do. Roxy and Jane can be bridesmaids (are bridesmaids a thing in gay weddings how does this work).

“Dirky Dirky Dirky, I never thought I’d see the day!” Meenah cackles. Dirk pulls away from you and you help him to his feet. The woman walks over and throws her arms around Dirk in his first hug of the night, and his eyes widening must mean that this is one rare-ass occurrence. Meenah doesn’t seem like the ‘huggy’ type.

Hugs are passed around and pictures are taken. Roxy and Jane offer to cater and you accept because _duh_ it’s obvious that you won’t use anyone else. Gamzee and Tavros are ecstatic and Eridan and Sollux can’t believe it _finally_ happened, even though they’ve been dating longer than you and Dirk.

You don’t try to stop yourself from kissing Dirk again when you’ve gotten all of your hugs out, and he grins.

“My Grandma’s in for a surprise,” you grin.

“Yeah, that’s one missing piece. We’ll get married _if_ she’s okay with it,” Dirk smiles.

You’ve always been old-fashioned. Do things the classic way, the right way, and everything goes smoothly. In the next few weeks, you and Dirk spend much of your free time gathered around the kitchen table, planning everything out with Roxy and Jane. There’s a lot more to this whole wedding business than you ever realized, and Roxy demands that everything be perfect down to the last detail.

You and Dirk aren’t really into the whole ‘planning’ thing. It’s boring and tedious and you think Dirk’s about to gouge out his eyes with his own sunglasses, but you stop him and finish up choosing the flowers. You’ve already agreed that all decisions have to be finalized by your grandmother, whenever you two decide to tell her.

“Jake it’s been three weeks, can we just tell her already?” Dirk asks. “We’ve done a lot of planning already, I don’t want to do even more if she says no.”

“She’s not going to say no, Dirk, she loves you,” you ensure him. Dirk groans and rests his forehead on the table, rustling the documents for where Roxy wants the wedding to be. You pull him up by the back of his hair and remove the papers, receiving no shortage of moaning and groaning on his part.

“You know, Dirk, I wanted to talk to you about something,” you begin, swallowing nervously. Dirk sighs and removes his shades because AR is blabbing about something he doesn’t care about. “Dirk, you know I’ve always been...a bit old fashioned. And one thing I believe in is getting consent from the parents.”

“We’re asking your Grandma, that’s the closest we’ve got,” Dirk shrugs.

“I wasn’t talking about mine, Dirk.”

There’s a long silence, and Dirk doesn’t look at you for a long time. Is he going to be mad at you? Getting his parents’ blessing is an absolute must and you don’t care what you have to do to get it. Dirk’s parents will be at that wedding, one way or another. You don’t care if they’re outside holding a sign, they will be there.

“They’ll never say yes.”

“I don’t care. I want to try and that’s that,” you tell him sternly. The blond looks over at you sadly, and pulls you into a hug.

“...I don’t want you to meet my parents, okay? They’re not gonna be happy to meet the guy who is marrying their son. They kicked me out because I’m gay, remember?”

“I know, I just can’t stand the idea of Dave being your only family at the wedding. Doesn’t that bother you?” you ask desperately, wishing more and more that Dirk were the ‘feelings’ type of guy.

“Of course it bothers me, it’s just not gonna happen! They’re totally against it,” he said. Dirk’s eyes drop to the floor and you wriggle your hand into his, planting a kiss on his lips suddenly.

“...okay, Dirk, I’ll leave it be.”

...

You don’t leave it be. Two weeks later, Dirk has to go away to a Robotics convention to present AR and his rapping robots. Everything’s in their boxes and Dirk has to leave early because it takes ages to get two massive robots through security.

You drive Dirk to the airport. Squarewave and Sawtooth are already at the airport and being checked top-to-bottom. You insist on grabbing Dirk’s suitcase so that he doesn’t know that yours is also in the back of the car.

An hour later, you’re kissing Dirk goodbye as he departs for Ohio. You smile at him until he’s out of sight.

You run back to the truck and move it to the parking lot, texting Jane and reminding her to pick it up later. You rip your suitcase out of the back of the truck and run back into the airport, handing your ticket over to the woman.

Two hours later, you are on a plane on its way to Dallas, Texas.

Dirk would be furious if he knew what you were doing. His opinion on you meeting his aparents was more than clear, but you refuse to let this opportunity slide by. Ohio is a long way from here and it’s a very large convention, so Dirk won’t be home in time to stop you.

The flight feels neverending. Fifteen years ago it would have felt like nothing; you and Grandma took plenty of flights much longer than this one. But it’s been years since you’ve been on an airplane and you’re sort of out of the loop.

You land in Dallas a few hours later, now in a different timezone and you just feel really sleepy all of a sudden. You reach into your suitcase when you finally get it back (you thought they’d lost it for a while and you nearly had a heart attack) to get the old Christmas card that you never sent.

You’d meant to, you really did. But life got ahead of you and you forgot about it. It works out, though, because now you have their address.

You flag down a Taxi outside the airport and tell the driver the address. He puts your luggage in the back and starts driving.

“So, new in town?” he asks you. You’d been zoning out for a few minutes and were surprised to hear him talking all of a sudden.

“Yes, you could say that. I’m in town to meet someone.”

“Oooh, who’d that be?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows in the rear-view mirror. You chuckle and continue.

“I’m getting married, and I’ve never met my fiance’s parents,” you continue. It hits you in that moment that you’ve never introduced Dirk to anyone as your fiance. It felt weird on your tongue...but you really like it. You still have those moments now and then where it really hits you that you’re getting married.

“Never? How long had ya been datin’?”

“It was two years in November.”

“Long time to go without meetin’ her parents, ‘specially if yer engaged,” the driver shrugs. “Well, to each his own. Congratulations by the way.”

“Thank you,” you smile. “Me and Dirk are getting married in a few months, I can’t wait.”

“...did you say Dirk?” he asks.

“Yes, why? Do you know him?” 

“Naw, Dallas is a big city. Just surprised to hear that you’re...you know,” he hints, raising his eyebrows at you a little in the mirror. You smile and look out the window. You’ve gotten that quite a bit; Dirk is a little more...the coined term for this is ‘fabulous’, but neither of you are particularly feminine. People are often surprised to discover that you had a boyfriend, now fiance.

“If I were you, boy, I wouldn’t make that a fact well-known around here,” the driver suggests. “Lots of folks ‘round here don’t like that kind of thing.”

“I’ve heard.”

“I reckon that’s why you’ve never met his parents, then?”

“...that’s right.”

The driver is silent for the rest of the drive, and you don’t try to speak anymore. You keep running the situation through your head; will they even let you in? You checked online, there’s a hotel nearby for you to stay in. You weren’t going to intrude on them even if they let you in the door.

What if they say no? To be honest, you’re still going to marry Dirk one way or another, but God you wish they would come to the wedding. His entire family is invited; cousins, aunts, uncles, everybody. The first step is getting his parents.

He pulls up in front of a large house. It’s a very typical Texas home, if not a bit larger than most. Dirk’s family must be pretty wealthy to afford a place like this. The driver is the first to exit the car and retrieve your suitcase from the back for you, and he hands you a small card with his phone number on it.

“Whenever you’re leavin’ down, give me a call. I’ll pick you right up,” he smiles at you. You thank him and slip the card into your back pocket, gripping your suitcase tightly in your hand. “Good luck with it, sir.”

“Thank you.”

He pulls away from the curb a few moments later. You keep scanning the house, taking it all in. This is where Dirk grew up. It’s not what you expected; it’s large, grand, luxurious even, everything a kid could hope for. He could have such an easy life in a family like this if they weren’t so…

You urge yourself not to think like that. Positive thoughts, Jake, positive thoughts.

You slowly inch towards the front door of the home, the walkway leading up to it feeling far longer than it is. The stones below hurt your feet and the smell of the flowers is far too strong, since when are your senses this hyperactive? You feel like a scared little child. It’s just his parents!

You’re beginning to realize the meaning behind all of those ‘meeting the in-laws’ movies. Meet the Fockers could never have prepared you for this.

The doorbell is far too loud when you press it in. Someone yells inside that ‘they’ll get it’, and the door opens a few moments later.

A young boy, probably just a few years younger than Dave, with dark brown hair opens the door. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Jake. Are, uh, your parents home?” you ask. He nods and gestures for you to enter, which you do. He closes the door behind you and you notice the pile of shoes near the door, encouraging you to slip your own shoes off out of respect.

“Wait here,” the boy tells you, running off into the house and yelling for his mother.

A third Strider, you can’t believe it. It’s hard to picture a Strider with brown hair, but the freckles and pale skin are a dead giveaway. All the kid is missing is a pair of sunglasses and a fucked attitude.

“Afternoon, I’m Pamela,” a woman greets you. She smiles warmly at you and you trace the wrinkles on her forehead with your eyes. Her hair is blond with streaks of gray working its way into the mix of curly hair. Her dress has a flower print on it and she’s not wearing shoes either.

“Afternoon, I’m, uh, Jake.”

“What can I do ya for, Jake?”

“I was just wanting to meet you, ma’am. I’m a friend of your sons.”

Her smile doesn’t fade, but it’s immediately forced. The tension between you instantly thickens and you’re worried that she’s going to kick you out.

“Is that so? Come into the living room, meet my husband. Allen, this boy’s close with Dave.”

And Dirk, you add mentally. She leads you into the large, open living room where a TV is mounted on the wall. A football game is playing and the man on the couch turns to face you, standing soon after.

He’s a monster of a man, 6”6 easily and built like a brick shithouse. His flannel shirt barely covers his bulging muscles and holy shit this guy is the poster for masculinity.

“That so?” he asks, offering you a massive handshake. “Name’s Allen. Tell me, how’s Dave doing?”

The three of you all take seats in the living room and Allen mutes the TV. Pamela offers you a beer which you happily accept, hoping it’ll relieve the nerves that have been flipping the hell out ever since you rang the doorbell.

“Dave is doing great. He’s in seventh grade with my niece, Jade,” you explain. “My niece is his girlfriend, actually.”

“A girlfriend! Oh, I bet she’s lovely,” Pamela grins. “Do you have a picture of them?”

You dig into your pocket and pull out your cell phone. You scroll thoughtfully through your pictures. It’s obvious what she’s doing; Pamela wants to talk about Dave, not Dirk. You remember Dirk mentioning that his dad was more accepting of him than his mother, so you’d bet that Allen is willing to talk about Dirk.

You finally find a picture with all four of you; yourself, Dave, Jade and Dirk. Dirk insisted on an ironic Christmas-sweater selfie to go on some equally ironic Christmas cards to send to all of your friends, and you still have it on your phone. You scoot over beside Pamela and show it to her.

“That’s Jade,” you say, pointing to her. Jade is beside of Dirk and you swear you see Pamela’s eye linger on the older Strider for just a second. She takes the phone and holds it up to Allen, who very obviously is looking at Dirk in the picture. His eyes soften and you think the guy is actually a huge teddy bear.

“What a pretty young lady,” he smiles, and the two of you exchange glances for a moment. “So, that was Dirk in the picture?”

Pamela clears her throat and excuses herself to the kitchen. Allen sighs and rubs his eyes with a monstrous hand.

“I’m, uh, sorry if I caused any problems,” you tell him. Allen waves you off.

“Not yer fault. Pam and I have been fighting about this for years,” he tells you. “How is he? Dirk, I mean.”

“Dirk is...fantastic, actually,” you say, and immediately Allen’s shoulders relax. “He hit it big last year. He’s in Ohio right now speaking at a Robotics convention. He’s the guest of honor.”

“No shit,” Allen smiles. You nod and start to tell the story of the last few years of Dirk’s life. You tell him how he managed to keep him and Dave alive through being a prostitute. You edit yourself out of the story for the most part up until you and Dirk started living together; and then, only as roommates. You tell Allen that you were drinking buddies and that you decided to split the rent.

You tell him about how hard he worked after getting fired from the House and that he was a natural with robotics. Allen made a comment on how he was always a ‘crafty sumbitch’ and the two of you laughed at the multiple meanings.

“Hey Jake, can I ask you somethin?” he requests and you nod. “Is he still...you know. Gay?”

“...yes, he is.” Allen deflates a little and rubs his eyes again, and you’re starting to think that he had a habit of doing that.

“I wish it were different, you know?” he starts sadly. “I got over the whole ‘gay’ thing years ago. It’s just that...if he weren’t, Pam would...she’s real set in her ways, you know how they are. She was devastated when Dirk came out to us.”

“Dirk told me something like that,” you half-laugh and both of you know it’s forced. There’s a long silence between the two of you, and Allen finishes off his beer and reaches for Pamela’s unopened one.

“Not to say that I wasn’t pretty pissed off myself, but I overreacted. I know that now,” he mutters. “Jake. Does Dirk...have anyone?”

You and Allen exchange glances, and you bite your bottom lip. “Yes, he does.” Allen perks up a little and motions for you to continue. How do you explain that it’s you? How do you sum up a two-year relationship only talking about yourself. Is this the right time? Is this when you tell him that you’re marrying his son?

“His boyfriend is...kind of a dork,” you chuckle. “He’s overly obsessed with movies, unsure of himself, he gets along better with children than with other adults.” Allen chuckles a little.

“That so?”

“Yes, it is,” you smile warmly, watching the condensation on the side of your beer stream down the side and drip onto the hardwood floor. Suddenly you’re hearing everything again; the clock on the wall, your own heartbeat and maybe even Allen’s. You feel yourself start sweating. “He drives this big...big truck that costs too much to fill up but it makes him feel like he’s important. Dirk means everything to him.”

“Jake...you didn’t travel all this way to meet the parents of your ‘friend’, did ya?” Allen asks. You feel like you’re about to start crying when you look up at Allen. You shake your head. “So you and Dirk, huh?” You nod and you squeeze your beer so tightly that you’re worried it’s gonna shatter into your hand.

“Dirk is everything to me.” You say it calmly, full of all the confidence you could muster.

You retell the story you’ve only just told, this time with the whole truth (except for the sex, you’re sure he doesn’t want to hear about that). You met at the bar, you moved in when he got fired because of you, all funny memories from the past two years. You tell him how he helped you through mourning your mom after she committed suicide.

You start telling him about yours and Dirk’s friends. How Gamzee and Tavros are both complete idiots, how Jane and Roxy were a match made in heaven, how Eridan and Sollux helped you come to terms with liking Dirk.

Very shortly, your story arrives at New Year’s Eve only a few short weeks ago. Your gut gets heavy and your heart doubles its pace. Allen is fascinated by your tale, absorbing every detail like his life depends on it. You’re happy to see that at least one of his parents is so accepting; Allen is a great guy. You’d be happy to make him your Father-in-Law.

“Then, at our New Year’s Eve party this year…” you hesitate, wishing you had just one more drink of beer to wet your throat because holy shit it feels like you just walked across a desert. “Dirk, he…”

“What is it?”

You take a deep breath and blurt it out at once. “Dirk and I are getting married!”

You keep your eyes squeezed shut for a long time. Allen doesn’t say anything, and you hear the clink of him setting his beer back down on the coffee table. There’s a rustling and the floor creaks and suddenly two massive arms are wrapped around you.

You open your eyes and Allen is _hugging_ you, and tightly. Your bones creak as he pulls you in so strongly that you think your lungs are turning inside out.

“Thank you for taking care of my boy when I couldn’t,” he whispers, and that’s good enough of a blessing for you. He releases you just in time for Pamela to walk in with a plate of cookies.

“So what are we talking about in here?” she asks, feigning interest as if this entire converstation wasn’t about Dirk.

“Jake here was just telling me all about Dave, isn’t that right?” Allen lies, but you nod anyway. You look between him and Pamela and suddenly it makes sense; Allen is whipped as all hell.

…

Your name is Dirk Strider, and you are on an airplane.

Something’s been bothering you all day today, from the moment you woke up. Jake was overly courteous all day, even for him. He put your suitcase in the truck, he got your suitcase for you at the airport, he made sure everything was in order and kept asking which day you were coming back over and over and over until you were seriously sick of it.

Your plane had to transfer in Louisiana, of all places, but the whole time going through security, you couldn’t help but feel like Jake was up to something.

Immediately after the plane taking off, you got on Pesterchum on your cell phone and pestered Roxy.

timeausTestified [TT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

TT: Hey Rox, I need you to be totally upfront with me, okay?  
TG: suuuure thing drik  
TG: dammit *dirk why do i always tpye like that  
TG: ******type fuck  
TT: Okay so wow you’re hammered  
TG: hey its five oclock where u r aint it  
TT: Fair enough, I guess. Anyway I need to ask you about Jake.  
TG: oboy ;3  
TT: Is he up to something?  
TG: well hes totes not in txas talkin to ur fokes i can tell u that mcuh  
TG: *texas *folks *much  
TT: Oh my God.

timeausTestified [TT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

TG: wait strider  
TG: shit

You ditch the convention and buy the first plane ticket to Dallas you can. Apparently someone is watching over you because there’s only a few seats left on the plane leaving in an hour. You shoot a text to the guy running your panel at the convention stating your cancellation, and he’s gonna be pissed but this is more important.

So now, you’re on another plane on its way to Dallas. Luckily it’s not that long of a flight, only about forty-five minutes. Any longer and you’re positive you would have shook yourself to death because holy _shit_ you’re already a nervous wreck and letting it marinate in you for another five hours wasn’t going to help. You touch down in Dallas quickly and flag down the first cab you see. You spout off the address, engraved in your memory, and the guy raises an eyebrow at you before pulling into the street.

“Ya know this must be a popular house or somethin,” he offers. You raise an eyebrow at him over your pointed shades. “I mean, yer the second guy to drop off there today.”

“Was the first a guy named Jake?”

“Sure was. Hell of a nice guy, too,” he smiles. “I don’t suppose you’re that Dirk he was tellin’ me about?”

“...yeah, that’s me.” So, Jake’s telling random cab driver’s about you now? What is he going to tell your parents?

What are _you_ going to tell your parents?

It’s been nine years since you’ve seen them. It’s their fault you had to go into prostitution, it’s their fault that Dave had a hard childhood, it’s THEIR fault that everything went so wrong for so long.

“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on in there,” the driver says. “But good luck to ya.”

You hadn’t even noticed that you’re already here. You exit slowly and retrieve your suitcase from the trunk, patting the roof of the car for him to drive away after handing him the money.

You turn away from the road and look at your old house. It feels like a lifetime ago that you were living here, yet nothing has changed. Dad still hasn’t fixed the shingles on the roof, Mom is still growing the same flowers. Familiar scents, sounds, visions all around you.

Suddenly you’re a scared twelve year old again, confiding in your father that you think you like boys. You scratch at the areas he hit you, scratch at your ears when you remember the words that were tossed your way.

_Fag. Heathen. Going to Hell. Homo._

You feel like you’re going to vomit into your Mom’s tulips.

Eventually you make your way up to the door and knock on it three times. You remember hating that doorbell as a kid, it went on too long and got on your nerves when you were trying to work. Someone yells “I’ll get it” and there’s some scurrying like somebody’s running.

The door opens a moment later to a young kid with brown, straight hair. His skin is really pale, like yours and all you can do is gawk down at him.

“Who are you?” he snaps up at you. The way he said that...the way he looks…

This kid is a fucking Strider.

“Who are you?” you snap back. The kid smirks up at you and gestures for you to enter.

That smirk. Such a Strider.

“Mom, someone else is here now,” he yells. You enter slowly and look around the house.

The inside is very different from what you remember. The walls have been painted and they got rid of the old carpet that your damn dog ruined when you were a kid. There’s a laugh and you’re fucking positive that it’s Jake’s. The other, a deep, manly howling, is definitely your Dad’s.

You never thought you would set foot in this house again. Jake has certainly changed your life.

“Well who is it--” Mom stops, dropping a pitcher of what you think was Kool-Aid on the spot and letting it fall. Instinct has you flash-stepping towards her and catching it just before it hits the ground.

“Dirk.” She says flatly, and you hand the pitcher back to her. You stand up straight, remembering how much taller you are than her all of a sudden.

It’s weird how, after going so long without seeing her, your perception of her went back to how she was when you were a kid. You remembered big hair, bright skin, and being so much taller than you. You’re looking down at her now, though; she’s shorter than you. Her hair is cut shorter than you remember and her skin is wrinkled.

“Mom. Or would you rather me use Pamela?” You frown down at her, and she drops her gaze to the floor and turns the pitcher over in her hands, watching the Kool-Aid slosh around (you didn’t spill a drop). Mom takes your gloved hand and leads you into the kitchen where she puts the pitcher into the refrigerator. She closes the fridge, but doesn’t turn around to face you. She just keeps staring at the handle of the fridge.

“Why are you here, Dirk? I made it rather clear that you weren’t welcome here,” she says, her voice dripping with venom. She still has that weird power over you, that motherly affection towards her still hasn’t faded. Okay, maybe affection is the wrong word. But sometimes it’s hard to go against her will, even though she’s been anything but a mother for the last few years of your life.

“I came for Jake, nothing else. The last thing I wanted to see was you, don’t worry,” you scoff at her. She finally turns and she’s crying, her eyes puffy and red and you feel yourself backing away before she moves a single muscle.

“Do you know what you’ve put this family through, Dirk Winzleton? Your Father and I fought for years, our marriage almost didn’t make it. And then there’s Daniel, who keeps asking questions about the old photo albums of you and Dave,” she rants, only getting angrier by the second but still managing to keep it in a hushed tone. “Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t use your real name anymore. What was it now? Dirk _Strider_?”

“What’s going on in there, honey?” Dad yells from the living room. You hear Jake say something in a hushed tone.

“Nothing, don’t come in here!” Mom yells back. Mom cups her face in her hands and leans back on the counter, her arms shaking. You keep looking at the door to the living room. Dad is in there, and sure he was pissed at first but he came around. You really do miss your father.

“Why did you come all this way for him? For Jake?” she asks. “And why is Jake even here? Your roommate is a lovely boy but all he’s done today is avoid my questions about Dave. He kept trying to bring you into conversation and he knew _damn_ well that I did not want to talk about it.”

You flinch when your Mom swears at you; Mom _never_ swears. It wasn’t even bad, but it sort of gave you a handle on the situation.

Mom, obviously, has not gotten over this with time. And she probably never will.

“Dirk I want you to get out of my house,” she says. You simply look at her, amazed. This woman controlled you for years, put you through Hell and kicked you to the curb the second you turned eighteen. She’s the reason that you became a prostitute, the reason for everything.

You’ve been waiting years to do this.

“No, Mom. Fuck you. You can’t control me anymore.”

Before she can do anything, you fling open the door to the living room and storm inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that's a huge cliffhanger but I am EVIL AND AM PUTTING IN A SPECIAL CHAPTER NEXT MWUAHAHAHA!!! It's been two years, and Dave and Jade's relationship has changed a lot and I haven't even given one of my OTP's its own chapter yet. /shot
> 
> I just want to take a second to thank all of my beautiful readers that have left Kudos and Comments. You guys are seriously incredible, I can't believe the attention this story has gotten. With well over 2000 hits, 150+ Kudos, and a whopping 44 comments, you guys are my faves. This is my most popular story I've ever written and I am so proud of it and thank you all for being a part of my favorite creation yet: Sell Your Soul.
> 
> See you guys next time.


	16. Dave: Attend Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus H. Christ this was painful to write. Guys, I seriously have to apologize to all of you.
> 
> I just...lost all inspiration to write this story. I started watching Supernatural and Attack on Titan and some other stuff, and honestly Homestuck fell into the background. I checked back and realized how long it had been since my last update and I felt like a total piece of shit.
> 
> And to make matters worse, I know I promised JohnKat and Rosemary in this but it just isn't going to happen like this. I promise to finish this story, I really do, but sideships are going to be pushed to the background. I want to finish the story between Dirk and Jake and that's it.
> 
> But, I at least promised you guys some DaveJade, so here it is. Sorry it took so long for a chapter about a sideship, but it can't be helped. _Writing about straight people is hard..._

Your name is Dave.

Mother.

Fucking.

**Strider.** And you have not gotten enough attention in this damn Fanfiction.

Let me tell you something, mother fuckers. This isn’t all about the gays. Straight talk right here, son, we got far too much homosexuality on the Internet as is. Let’s let the hipster breathe.

After all, you’re practically the only straight guy in this story aside from Egbert’s freakin Dad.

After Bro and Jake skipped town, Bro on business and Jake on an ‘adventure’, as only he would put it, taking separate planes to God knows where, you and Jade were dumped at the Egbert/Crocker household for a few days. Dirk is under the impression that you’re staying at home with Jake, but you were bribed with video games and getting out of the house for a few days and fuck if that’s not enough incentive for you.

You and Jade have been going out for as long as you remember. Not gonna lie, shit was awkward for a long ass time. You started living together in fifth grade, for God’s sake, and even by your standards that’s taking it pretty fast. For a long time, you two were more like brother and sister. You announced that you were still dating, of course, and you’d do shit like hold hands. But the ‘relationship’ stuff just stopped.

Looking back, since it was fifth grade, you really didn’t do a lot of relationship stuff. But it was different, you know? Living together changes a relationship, no matter how old you are.

Maybe you phrased it incorrectly when you said ‘was awkward for a long ass time’, because it’s still awkward. Aside from the fact that your bro and her uncle are getting married in a few months and are always on third base in the middle of the living room (and the kitchen, and the shower, and the laundry room…), but living across the hall from your girlfriend leaves you little room for secrecy. In fifth grade, she didn’t see your massive amounts of shitty swords, or your ever growing collection of the not-so-recently-deceased-animals and all that. But now she’s, like, _in your room_ sometimes and it freaks you out.

Her room is no better. It’s covered top-to-bottom in fucking guns. **Guns**. Swords are one thing, sure they’re dangerous but you can’t fucking blow someone’s head off with a sword. You can cut if you’re quick but it’s way harder. You’re pretty sure that there’s debates as to whether these guns should even be _legal_.

Then there’s that damned dog, Bec. He’s nice but he’s big as shit and sheds like nobody’s business. They feed him steaks, like entire fucking steaks. Who even does that? The bowel movements on that thing must be fucking huge.

So yeah, that’s basically been the past two years. Giant dog shit, guns, and awkwardness. You still love Jade, though.

You see, it’s not that you treat her as a sister, it’s that she treats you like her brother. It’s all hugs and no kisses, stuff like that. She’s affectionate, sure, but no more than she is with anything else. It’s once in a lifetime it feels like that you can even get her to kiss you, and then you act like a fucking kid on Christmas because holy shit it actually happened you’re acting like a girlfriend.

Needless to say, you’ve reached a new level of the Friendzone; actually in the relationship, but _still somehow in the Friendzone_. THAT SHOULDN’T EVEN BE POSSIBLE.

The sad part is is that this isn’t monologue. You’re literally lying in your bedroom, thinking every word of this out to yourself. Why does it have to be like this? Jade should know how much you care about her.

You’ve spent too much time talking to John and Karkat about this, how to get out of this rut you’ve been in with Jade. Karkat gave up on you months ago but John is still trying; but let’s be honest, he’s John. He’s the most clueless person EVER when it comes to relationships, which is why Karkat never stops talking to you about him.

Yeah, Karkat has the hots for John. Big surprise there, right?

You log onto Pesterchum in hopes of Karkat being online. You’re feeling particularly angsty about this situation with Jade and need to blow off some steam. He’s always good for that.

turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG]

TG: yo karkat you online  
CG: WHAT DO YOU WANT STRIDER?  
CG: I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU COMPLAIN ABOUT YOUR GIRLFRIEND ONE MORE TIME  
CG: JUST ONE MORE FUCKING TIME  
CG: I WILL PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE  
TG: no you wont youre a pussy  
CG: YEAH FUCK YOU TOO  
CG: ANYWAY WHAT  
TG: i actually did want to talk about jade  
CG: SURPRISE SURFUCKINGPRISE  
TG: no this is serious shit man  
TG: look at my face this is 100% ballin seriousness right here  
TG: i know you cant see my face bro youll have to take my word for it  
CG: UGHHHH FINE  
TG: sweet  
TG: so what do you suggest i do about it  
CG: MAYBE HONESTY IS ONE WAY  
TG: no fuck that shell just laugh  
CG: I THINK YOU UNDERESTIMATE HARLEY’S LEVEL OF COMPASSION  
CG: YOU KNOW HOW NICE SHE IS, JUST TRY IT  
TG: maybe thatd work for some guys  
TG: just not me  
CG: WHY  
TG: i dont know im just not the ‘talk about your feelings’ guy  
TG: i keep shit to myself  
TG: itll just be uncomfortable if i flop down on her bed and tell her i want to have a feelings jam  
CG: YEAH YOU’RE RIGHT FOR ONCE THAT’D BE WEIRD.  
TG: so what do i do  
CG: WELL MARYAM IS HAVING A PARTY. MAYBE GO TO THAT?  
TG: a party why  
CG: I DON’T KNOW, BELATED NEW YEARS OR SOMETHING?  
CG: MAYBE SHE JUST WANTS TO HAVE A PARTY IT’S NOT A CRIME.  
TG: fair enough  
CG: GOOD. BE THERE IN THREE HOURS THAT’S WHEN IT STARTS.  
TG: whoa shit its tonight  
TG: how have i not heard about this  
CG: SURPRISINGLY ENOUGH STRIDER, YOU ARE NOT THE WALKING ENTITY OF POPULARITY  
CG: SOME PEOPLE JUST DON’T LIKE YOU  
TG: kanaya and i are tight as shit  
CG: I’M NOT SAYING YOU AREN’T INVITED  
CG: BUT THE CHAIN OF TALK DOESN’T REACH YOU AS FAST AS YOU THINK  
TG: whatever then dude  
TG: we all know im the coolest guy at school though  
TG: maryam knows it  
TG: lalonde knows  
TG: and sure as fuck vantas knows it  
CG: HARLEY DOESN’T  
TG: that was below the belt  
CG: WELL THEN STOP BEING A SELF-ABSORBED DOUCHEBAG AND GO TO THE PARTY  
TG: sweet

carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]

Hours later, you’re ready to go to the party. Jade has been bored out of her skull and was more than ready to attend, and you tell her to put on something nice before promptly smacking her ass. She glared back at you and stuck her tongue out, but made no sign of affection whatsoever.

Surprise surfuckingprise, as Karkat would say.

You, John, and Jade all cram into Jane’s car and swing by to pick up Roxy and Rose on the way over to Kanaya’s house. You and Rose exchange little words while John and Jade babble incessantly about God knows what. You keep watching Jade in the reflection, the way her teeth are too big in the front and how her hair keeps getting in her face. Her eyebrows crinkle up and she has to blow it out of her face and it’s actually hilarious to watch.

God you love her.

Eventually you make it to Maryam’s place, noting the amount of handholding and eyesex going on between Jane and Roxy. You’re starting to think gay is in the air but you’ll never admit that because Jade will start to suspect something that isn’t true. I mean shit, Bro already thought you had a thing for Karkat and FUCK that.

Inside, it seems that the party is already in full swing. Familiar faces surround you, and the air is thick with teenage hormones and marijuana.

God you love parties.

Jade suggests getting some "punch" and you quickly defuse that idea because it's more than likely spiked. She grabs your hand and leads you to the makeshift dance floor, furniture all pushed against the walls and an iPod hooked up to the surround sound system.

Jade forces you to start dancing with her. Normally you'd dread something like this, but after these past few years, you'll take anything you can get. Jade seems to sense that your heart isn't in it and quirks an eyebrow at you.

"Dave, is something wrong?" she asks. You shake your head. Jade obviously isn't convinced, but she knows better than anybody that just prodding at it won't work on you. She keeps dancing, her moves slightly more sluggish and deflated than they had been. Her heart isn't really in it anymore, either.

After a while, Jade pulls you aside and sets you down on one of the dislocated couches. She sits beside you with her arms folded over her chest

"Dave, I know I don't normally do this, but I demand you tell me what is wrong!" Jade announces triumphantly. You feel your eyebrows raise at that, since Jade is solemn so straightforward.

"I don't know, Harley," you sigh. "I was hoping that this party would...I don't know."

"That this party would what?" she asks, begging to elaborate.

"It's just...it's been a long time since we've felt like boyfriend and girlfriend," you finally admit, running a hand through your blond hair.

"Is that what this is about?" Jade chuckles. Slender fingers find their way to your cheek and she pulls you into a light kiss, her soft lips smiling against yours. Your heart shoots up into your throat, beating so fast that it must be trying to get out.

When she pulls back, Jade is smiling with her forehead pressed against yours.

"How long has it been since you did that?" you chuckle, and Jade merely smiled.

"I guess after you moved in, you started feeling like my brother. Then I thought you had that thing with Karkat..."

"Why does everyone think that?"

"The point is, I'm sorry if I made you think I didn't like you this way anymore." Jade smiled and rested her head in the crook of rr shoulder, fingers on your arm tapping to the beat of the music. You loop your arm around her and smile, resting your head on top of hers.

"I've missed you," you whisper. She doesn't hear you over the music, but you find that it doesn't really matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! I would like to promise a fast update, I really would, but honestly I don't want to set a deadline because I know that I'll miss it and just disappoint all of you even further. I'm seriously so sorry, nobody is more disappointed in me for the lapse of judgment than me *ugly sobbing* Please leave Kudos and Comments that I don't deserve.


	17. Jake: Reunite with your Fiancé

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this wasn't exactly a FAST update, but at least it didn't take a month! And writing gay couples is infinitely easier than straight couples, I realized. Not sure what to do with that information.
> 
> Anyway, we're back to Jake and Dirk again. This chapter is really REALLY important, and we also get some more development on the mysterious third Strider. Let's get right to it, shall we?

Your name is Jake English, and it all changes today. Everything.

You were actually having a great time. After your private conversation with Allen, you started filling him in on Dave as well. He, and even Pamela on occasion, chimed in as they retold stories of the Striders’ childhood. Or, rather, the Winzletons’ childhood, because Jake had never even considered that Dirk had changed his name after everything that happened, but Strider was apparently false. It makes sense, really, because how could somebody so cool have landed such a perfectly cool name.

Another knock came at the door, and when the younger Strider called that someone else had arrived, Pamela smiled (a real smile, she was actually laughing now) and said that she would bring beers when she returned.

You and Allen keep talking, him using the opportunity to tell you some stuff about Dirk’s childhood. He tells you about the time when Dirk came home with his toenails painted and Pamela nearly fainted. He tells you about the time when he got in a fight because someone took his glasses, and won the fight with his eyes closed because he didn’t want to show everyone his freakish orange eyes. Your favorite story is about when Dirk got his first girlfriend and dated her for two months without doing so much as holding her hand.

Really that should have been an indicator, but you keep that to yourself.

Allen is just about to start another story, something about Halloween and a fuckton of toilet paper, when Dirk himself bursts through the door from the kitchen.

“Dirk!” you exclaim, and you feel his eyes find you from under those pointy shades. You and Allen both stand, eyes equally wide. Dirk strides (hehe) over to you and his arms curl instantly around your waist, and yours go around his shoulders. He presses his lip against yours quickly, holding there for a moment. You can barely even respond to the kiss, still astonished that he’s even _here_.

You break away from him with a quiet gasp, and whisper angrily. “Dirk, why are you here?”

“Roxy can’t keep her mouth shut when she’s drunk. I told you not to come,” the taller man whispers back. You’re suddenly aware of the eyes on your back and the eyes on Dirk’s from Allen and Pamela respectively. Dirk holds fast on your hand and steps around, facing his mom.

“Sorry to interrupt, we’ll be leaving now,” he announced flatly, unapologetically. “Let’s go, Jake.”

“Wait.” Both you and Dirk turn to face Allen, still watching Dirk closely. You feel Dirk’s shoulders relax and his hand slip out of yours. Allen steps forward and his huge arms quickly wrap around Dirk’s, and his arms wrap around Allen’s. The two stand seemingly silent, but you’d be willing to bet they’re saying something quietly to each other.

Your eyes trail back over to Pamela, face red with anger and her bottom lip chewed to hell. She watches you closely, picking out every way she wants to cuss you out, most likely.

“I’m sorry for deceiving you,” Jake said glumly. “Dirk is very important to me.”

Pamela says nothing. Dirk and Allen silently finish their hugfest, and like a magnet Dirk’s hand flies back into yours. He shoots a quick glare at his mom.

“I’m surprised, Mom,” Dirk sneers. “No snappy comments? No calling me a fag?”

“ _Dirk_ ,” you warn, squeezing his hand tightly. “She’s still your mother.”

“My mother? Please, she hasn’t been my mother in years!” he snaps. “You _know_ she’s the reason that everything happened, Jake! Why Dave...”

“Why Dave what?” Pamela interrupted. You feel Dirk tense up, and you know why; she cares enough to ask about Dave?

“Oh, I’ve had to take care of him for the last few years!” he yells. “I couldn’t find a job to pay for both of us, though, so then I had to start selling myself. Always what you wanted for your baby boy, right? It’s okay, being a prostitute was totally not one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to deal with.”

Pamela’s eyes widen noticeably, and she excuses herself into the kitchen. Dirk obviously isn’t willing to let this sit, but before he could storm in there, you grab him by the shoulder.

“Dirk, let me,” you suggest. Before the blond can shoot you down, you slowly stalk over to the kitchen and push the door in.

Pamela isn’t looking at you when you step inside, but clearly she hears the door open. “Allen I don’t want to talk to you right now!” she screeches. You stop and wait for her to turn around. When she does, her eyes are puffy and starting to leak. “What do you want, Jake?”

“I’m not here to criticize you,” you begin. “I’m...not a parent. I don’t understand what it’s like. But what I do know is that...that Dirk is one of the most amazing people I have ever met. He had to go through so much and he’s still kind, and sweet, and funny. He’s the most important person in my life. Why isn’t he in yours?”

That was all you had to say to break Pamela down. She sobs into her hands, muttering apologies. You don’t know who they’re for. You? Dirk? God? It seemed it could be any of the three, or maybe all of them. You have a sinking feeling that she needs to at least two of them.

“I tried to consider it,” she mumbled, still wiping away the wetness around her eyes. “When he first told me, I thought; we can fix this, we can deal with it. Nothing will change.” She half-laughed, and you feel her gut wrench at the memories. “Then people started _talking_ , told me that he would go to Hell. And they were right.”

“You don’t need to listen to them,” you comfort, taking a step closer towards her. “Listen, Ma’am, the reason I came to Texas is because...because Dirk and I-”

“We’re getting married,” Dirk interjects. Apparently he was eavesdropping through the door, which really doesn’t surprise you. Pamela’s eyes widen. “Jake wanted your blessing. I told him it would never happen, but he’s the only person I’ve ever met that’s stubborn enough to put up with my crap. Makes sense that he’d try.” You feel a smile etch its way onto your face, and Dirk slipped his hand into yours yet again.

“Ma’am, whether or not you agree, we’re going to do it,” you explain. “But I don’t want Dave to be the only family at his wedding. Please, Pamela.”

The air froze in the kitchen. Your breath clogged in your throat and you feel Dirk’s entire body tense beside you as your fiance watches his mom silently, pleadingly. If you could see his eyes, you would imagine them locked on her. You doubt he even blinks.

It seemed like hours before Pamela finally brought her face up from her hands, and nodded. She wiped away the tears quickly. “I can’t say that I agree with it, but...I want to see Dave. So I’ll go to the wedding.”

You see the smile in her eyes and you know she’s just sparing her pride; but you’ll take it anyway.

You grin and throw your arms around Dirk’s neck, smiling into his skin as his hands wrap themselves around your back. He squeezes you tight and leans in close to your ear. “ _You’re really something else, you know that?_ ” he chuckled quietly. You respond by tightening the hug.

Pamela clears her throat and offers to make dinner, asking if you would be so kind as to stay behind and help. You’re sure that she wants to talk to you in private, and Dirk probably knows that as well, but you tell him that it’s fine and to go on.

…

You’re Dirk again, and you’re covered in sweat. Did that really just happen?

Jake is amazing. There’s just no other way to say it, he is _incredible_. How did he even do that? Dirk pleaded for years for his mom to reconsider, and he did it in an afternoon with more success than he’d ever had. He just...you’re at a loss for words. And for a Strider, that is a rare thing indeed.

You move back into the living room where your father had disappeared to who knows where, leaving you alone. You found yourself walking in circles, your hand ghosting across the table at the bottom of the stairs. Same frames that you remember, but many have been replaced with new images. Some remained, like your parents’ wedding and stuff like that, but any of you and Dave have been replaced with that new kid. What was his name again?

You don’t think he ever told you. How rude of your brother not to introduce himself.

You stalk up the stairs, your hand gliding along the smooth wood of the handrail. Memories bombard you from every angle, from pictures on the walls to the creak in the steps. You briefly wonder if your cat from when you were still here was still alive.

Out of curiosity, you poke your head into the hallway bathroom where you kept the litter and food for her. Sure enough, a half-empty bowl of food and a nearly full bowl of water. The litter looked recently disturbed and you felt your heart jump up into your throat.

“Jeff?” you call, smiling at the name. Dave writes that stupid comic of his online, and he got the name for Hella Jeff from your childhood cat. Luckily the cat isn’t half as retarded as Hella Jeff, otherwise the thing would have died thirty times over.

A pair of paws pat on the tiles of the bathroom floor, a pair of pointed ears reaching around the corner. Slitted eyes look up at you from the ground as the Tabby takes in your appearance.

“Hey, boy,” you smile. The cat meows loudly and runs to your feet, its head pressing roughly against your leg nand rubbing as it continues to meow. You pick it up and cradle it baby-style, scratching behind its ears and relishing the purrs elicited from the cat. You smile and scratch at Jeff’s tummy, which you remember it hated and laughed when its back paws tried kicking you away. It rubbed its wet nose on your face and meowed again.

“Jeff never acts like that,” someone says, and you look up from the cat to see the brown-haired boy from before leaning in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest. His expression is blank, unreadable to anyone who isn’t a Strider, the master of all poker faces. You see right through him - curiosity, discontent, maybe even a tad of jealousy. “So you’re the real deal, huh? My brother?”

“Sure looks that way,” you reply, setting Jeff on the ground that continued to mewl and rub on your legs, desperate for attention from you. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Daniel,” he said quickly. “I heard them say that you’re Dirk?” You nod, stepping past him and into the hallway. You look around at the walls, fingers trailing along the pieces of aging paint that’s chipped since you’ve been gone. You wonder what your old room is like.

“Hey, don’t go in there,” Daniel orders as you step in front of your old room. You smirk back at him.

“My room too, dude,” is all you say before swinging the door open and going inside.

It’s pretty much what you’d expect from a kid like Daniel. His walls are decorated with posters of obscure music groups, various pairs of headphones and other electronics scattered about the place. His bed is unkempt and tucked into the corner, where you used to have your bed as well.

“Rude,” Daniel mutters, forcing his way past you and plops down on his bed. He flips open his DS, tapping on the buttons and starting to play whatever it is.

Dirk moves around the room, noting the changes and alterations around his room. The walls are the same aside from the multiple decorations, and the floors are all still the same. You instinctively find yourself stepping over a particular board near the door that creaked really loudly.

“You look like a lost puppy,” Daniel told him, barely looking up from his game. You merely smirk and shake your head at him.

“Nah. I know every inch of this room,” you tell him. Daniel scoffs and mutters something along the lines of ‘yeah right’, still immersed in his stupid game. “Don’t believe me?”

Before he even answers, your fingers find the spot of rubber on the wall that stopped the closet door. You pull it off easily and reach in the tiny hole, retrieving a small thumb drive. It’s coated in dust and you can tell that it’s from a few years back, but you blow it off quickly and sit down on the bed next to Daniel.

“What is that?” he asks, attempting to grab the flash drive. You pull it away and shove it back down in your pocket.

“My porn from when I was in school,” you tease. It’s true; nostalgic porn is basically all that’s on the flash drive, if it even still works.

“Can I see?” he asks, reaching for the dusty drive. You frown and hold it higher above your head.

“No offense, but I don’t think you wanna see this,” you tell him. “Besides, aren’t you kinda young for porn?”

“I’ve seen porn before, stupid,” he snaps. “Come on, let me see.”

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” you smirk, sliding the device into Daniel’s hand. He smiles stupidly and plugs it into his computer, opening the tab that appears. Frankly you’re surprised it still works after having that much dust gathered on it.

Daniel immediately clicks on the first image, greeted by a very graphic (if not somewhat blurry) image of two men doing it. He promptly slams his laptop shut.

“I don’t think I need to say ‘I told you so’, do I?”

“What the _hell_ was that?” he groans, throwing it aside. You can’t help yourself from cackling loudly and letting your shades fall off your face onto the ground. You can’t bring yourself to care, though, because Jesus fuck Daniel’s _face_ when he saw it oh my God.

“Grooooooooooss,” he whines, wiping his hands over his face. “Why did you have that shit?”

“Gee, I don’t know. Why would a guy have that kind of porn on his flash drive?” you tease. Daniel stays quiet for a minute, his feet shuffling awkwardly along the side of the bed, failing to reach the ground. You didn’t realize how small the guy was; smaller than Dave was at his age, that’s for sure.

“Is that why Mom and Dad never told me about you?” he asks quietly.

You have to blink at him a few times to process what he asked you. “You...didn’t know?”

“Not a thing,” he confirms. “I mean, I sort of suspected...just some stuff they let slip over the years. But I never heard your name or anything, or why you weren’t here.”

You and Daniel sat in silence for a long time. Daniel fidgeted awkwardly in his place, wringing his hands together uncomfortably. “Why _weren’t_ you here?”

“Mom kicked me out,” you simplify. “Told her and Dad I liked guys, she wasn’t into that. Kicked me out on my eighteenth birthday.”

“...Mom’s kind of a bitch,” he concludes quietly. You snort unconsciously, muttering something along the lines of “Tell me about it.”

“I wish you could meet Dave, but he’s back home,” you tell him. He raises an eyebrow at you, and you remember that he has no idea who Dave is. “Dave’s my younger brother. He’s in seventh grade.”

“I’m only in fifth. My… _our_ Mom,” he corrects. “says that I’m way mature for my age, though.”

You hear sniffling to your right, looking over to see Daniel biting his lip and fighting back tears. His arms wrap tightly around you and buries his face into your side. He mumbles something into your side.

“Didn’t catch that,” you chuckle, hugging him back awkwardly with one arm.

“I just really need a brother,” he sniffles. You pull him in tighter and rest your chin on top of his head.

You remember doing this a lot with Dave when he was younger. He was small, didn’t make out very well at the start. Meeting Jade helped, you’d wager, but overall you don’t think the kid was very popular. You remember that the only thing that helped was his shades.

“Hey, look at me,” you urge. “I know you’re a Winzleton, but I haven’t used that name in years. As long as you’re related to me, you’re a Strider, too.” You reach up and take off your sunglasses, sliding them into Daniel’s shaking hands. “Put them on.”

Daniel slides the triangular glasses over his eyes, chewing on his lip thoughtfully. “They’re cool and all, I guess, but I don’t really see the point.”

“They’re a Strider’s best defense,” you tell him. “And as long as you wear them, nobody can get in.” He reaches up, running a finger along the edges of the lenses. “Also, they’re my greatest masterpiece.”

“You made these?” he asks, his eyebrows raised above the shades. You nod and smile at him.

“Auto Responder program, power on. Engage personality profile, Dirk Strider,” you command. The shades flicker to life, casting a red light on his face.

“ **Hello, Dirk,** ” AR says instinctually. “ **Wait, you aren’t Dirk. Who’s this guy?** ”

“Auto Responder, this is Daniel, my younger brother,” you explain.

“ **And here I thought that I’d wake up at a Robotics convention,** ” AR snorted. “ **So, based on the messages I read between you and Roxy, I assume that we’re now in your parents’ home? Which would mean that this boy is the third in your bloodline. Younger than Dave, presumably?** ”

Daniel blinked into the glasses a few times. “He’s smart.”

“ **Typically that is the case with artificial _intelligence_** ,” AR responded sarcastically.

“And kind of a dick,” he retorted.

“ **I’d suggest avoiding insulting me. My personality is an exact replica to that of Dirk,** ” he says. Daniel’s eyes widen and you don’t bother trying to stop yourself from laughing.

“Don’t worry, he started as an exact copy and branched off to develop a lot of his own personality,” you tell him. “Anyway, that’s the point here.”

“ **Before I power down again, Dirk,** ” AR interjects. “ **I have two questions.** ”

“Shoot.”

“ **Am I to assume that your panel at the convention is cancelled altogether?** ”

“Yep.”

“ **Noted. And also, what is the current status with you and Jake?** ” he asks. “ **If you don’t mind me asking.** ”

“Good, I think,” you simplify. “I think we worked out most of the crap with my parents. Mom even agreed to come to the wedding.” You look at Daniel still beneath the shades. “You’re coming too, you know that right?”

“Yeah, definitely!” Daniel grins.

“ **Noted. Shall I contact Roxy and Jane to reserve three more seats?** ”

“If you don’t mind.”

“ **You know I don’t,** ” AR replies smugly. “ **Okay, I’ll power off now.** ”

“Auto Responder, disengage personality profile Dirk Strider. Power off,” you command. The glasses flicker back to darkness and leave the two sitting quietly with each other.

“You made that?” Daniel asks. You nod and slip the glasses off your brother’s face and back onto your own, smiling lightly.

“Yeah I’m kind of a genius,” you tease, shoving his shoulder playfully. Daniel chews his lip thoughtfully, but before he can speak up, Jake yells from downstairs that dinner is ready.

Daniel races you to the kitchen and loses (you make a mental note to teach him how to flashstep at a later date). Jake turns happily to you, his teeth hanging slightly over his bottom lip in a huge smile. He’s holding a huge pot with freshly boiled noodles slathered with a gooey red sauce, the smell of which makes both you and Daniel start to drool. Jake gestures towards the table, which you hardly recognize until he starts taking the spaghetti that way and you decide that it’s important to stay close to the pasta. Daniel seems to have a similar mindset and follows you to the table, taking a seat directly to your left (often where Dave sits, you notice).

Jake aids your mom in serving dinner, spooning spaghetti onto the various plates scattered amongst the table. He makes a point to scoop a little extra onto your plate with a quick wink that goes easily unnoticed by the rest of your family. You smile and reach for your fork, scooping up a huge bite.

Mom clears her throat just before you take the first bite, her hand extended gently to either side of her. Her left hand is curled tightly around Dad’s, her right around Jake’s. Dad’s hand grabs tight onto Daniel’s hand, and in turn he extends one to you. You accept it with a near-silent sigh, and flinch slightly in surprise when a much warmer, larger hand wraps around your free one. You turn to see Jake smiling at you again before bowing his head in Prayer.

You’ve strayed pretty damned far from the Church, but you know better than anybody that this is your mom’s house. You bow your head obediently.

“Our Holy Father, thank You for this day,” she begins. “For today you have brought me not just one son back to our family, but two sons and a wonderful son-in-law to call one of our own. We thank You on this day for all our blessings.”

You forgo the formalities and look up over your shades at your mother, composed and calm as usual. You can’t believe what was just said; she did _not_ just refer to Jake as her son-in-law, did she? How is he able to convince her of this shit so easily?

“You’re amazing,” you whisper into Jake’s ear. You place a chaste kiss under his right ear, feeling them warm up and his cheek brush against yours as he smiles. You pull away as everyone mutters ‘Amen’, immediately going back after your fork and digging in.

The first taste of Mom’s cooking sends you straight back to your childhood, memories of how the woman can cook. Suddenly Dave is beside you again, kicking and screaming in his high chair as Dad tries desperately to calm him down. Your eyes trail across the confines of the room, from face to face to face.

Daniel, whom you’d never known existed until today but has already welcomed you as family.

Dad, who’d missed you for years but had never been allowed to see you again.

Mom, who kicked you out all those years ago and shunned you, forced you to do all those terrible things for so long, but looks at you and your fiance with newfound hope.

And Jake. You don’t even know where to begin with Jake. His entire being fills you up, makes you glad that you’ve ever met him. You lean over in his ear, smiling playfully.

“Jake, you are _**so**_ getting laid tonight.”

The blush on his face lasts the rest of dinner. And it was totally worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ermageeeerd. Yes, I've decided that this story needs ONE more smut before I finish it. We're in end game territory, my faithful readers. It's almost over.
> 
> Thank you all so much for going on this journey with me. Please stick around for just a while longer, and make sure to leave Kudos and Comments!! /goes to write le sexy times


	18. Dirk: Go Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late. As. Shit. I promised that it wouldn't be and here we are, ladies and gents.
> 
> So it didn't occur to me until I was at work today, serving fries like the minimum wage slave that I am, that today was 4/13 and I was all like "Shit, I should probably put a chapter out or something." So here it is. I incorporated a bit of plot at the beginning but mostly it's really passionate gay sex. I'm sure you'll somehow live with it.
> 
> Happy 4/13, everybody.

Your name is Dirk Strider, and life is pretty good.

You spent the next day with your future in-laws. It went smoothly, and you even convinced Daniel to start calling you Bro (Jake made a crack that your relationship was moving too fast and you promptly told him to shut his dick trap). Mom was constantly doting over you and Jake, asking about the wedding and who all is invited. You and Jake both knew that she was trying far too hard to act like she was 100% okay with this, but you both agreed that it was better than her not trying at all. You let her micromanage in peace.

On the flight home, Jake and you finally got some time alone with each other, although after countless minutes of trying to convince Jake to join the mile-high club, he merely shot you down and kept teasing you to wait until you got home. You already texted Dave and made sure that he and Jade are out of the house for the night when you and Jake return.

You nibble on his ear constantly on the way home, no matter how many times he smacks you away or tells you to keep it in your pants. Honestly you’re fine waiting until you get home, because the longer you wait the more he’ll owe you, but you love watching the reactions to your right when you show just a little too much affection. One kiss had raised an elderly man’s eyebrows, and a woman scowled when you started nibbling on his ear. AR started screenshotting the reactions which you’ll _definitely_ enjoy looking back at later.

AR has been making a nuisance of himself as well.

AutoResponder [AR] started annoying the shit out of Dirk Strider [DIRK]

DIRK: Very creative with the tag.  
AR: I try.  
AR: Anyway I thought I’d advise you to unglue yourself from your boyfriend there.  
DIRK: No it’s fun.  
AR: Really? You’re such a child sometimes.  
DIRK: You would know, wouldn’t you?  
AR: True.  
AR: Anyway, I was meaning to inquire on your take on the visit with your parents.  
DIRK: Not a whole lot to say. It was fine, I guess.  
AR: You guess?  
DIRK: Well yeah. I mean obviously Mom was trying way too hard.  
AR: It was painful to watch.  
DIRK: Yeah I know.  
DIRK: But I guess it’s good she’s coming to the wedding, isn’t it?  
AR: Your wedding, not mine. What do you think?  
DIRK: I don’t want to talk about this.  
AR: Dirk, I already know what you’re thinking.  
AR: I’m merely trying to make you put it out there for consideration.  
DIRK: Fine, I don’t really want her to go to the wedding.  
AR: Why not?  
DIRK: Because she’s not my fucking mom. Just because she’s suddenly “okay” with me being gay doesn’t excuse her from all the shit she caused.  
DIRK: Not to mention that she kept Dad from contacting me, and refused to let Daniel know that Dave and I even fucking existed.  
AR: So then why allow her to attend?  
DIRK: Just stop with your psychology bullshit, AR. If you already know the answer, I’m not going to talk about it.  
AR: This one was an honest question.  
DIRK: It’s because Jake wants her to go, alright?

You don’t want to talk about this. You’re too happy to start thinking like this. This is about you and Jake, right? Not your bitch mom. She disowned you and now she’s asking to go to your wedding? What kind of shit is that?

AR: This may be coming from someone who has never had a boyfriend.  
AR: But have you considered voicing these thoughts to Jake?  
DIRK: Why would I do that?  
AR: Don’t people always say that honesty is the most important part of a relationship?  
DIRK: Yeah but somehow I don’t think that Jake and I fit the mould of the average relationship.  
AR: Why is that? And don’t feed me the whole ‘we’re both guys’ line because you and I both know that it’s bullshit.  
DIRK: It’s just...I have a lot of baggage that Jake has to put up with.  
DIRK: I wish it were easier on him but it just isn’t. Honestly I was expecting Jake to shoot me down when I proposed.  
AR: Is your view of yourself really so twisted?  
DIRK: Excuse me?  
AR: Firstly, Jake is so obviously in love with you that this is basically a really gay Nicholas Sparks book.  
AR: And second, who doesn’t have baggage? You and Jake only met because of your baggage.  
DIRK: How is that?  
AR: Jake went to that bar to get drunk, and you were there because you needed money to take care of Dave.  
AR: I’d say that your ‘baggage’ did you both quite a bit of good as well, didn’t it?  
DIRK: I don’t know if I’d put it that way.  
AR: Then let me put it like this.  
AR: Let’s say this never happened. That you never got kicked out, and Jake’s mom had never died.  
AR: Neither of you would have been at the bar that night, and you would never have met the love of your life.  
AR: Would you trade Jake for a steady home life?  
DIRK: …  
AR: It wasn’t a rhetorical question, Dirk.  
DIRK: Sorry, thinking. But I guess you’re right.  
DIRK: I’m not happy about all the shit it took to meet him, but I guess I’m grateful that it happened.  
AR: Then perhaps letting your mom go to the wedding isn’t such a bad thing after all.  
AR: After all, you’d have never met him without her.

AutoResponder [AR] ceased annoying the shit out of Dirk Strider [DIRK]

Jake slept on your shoulder for the rest of the flight. You ended up hauling Jake out on your back, piggyback style, with a suitcase in each hand and hoping he wouldn’t fall off. He murmured thanks and planted soft, chaste kisses on the back of your neck as he continued to adjust himself and try to get more comfortable. You all but threw the bags in the back of Jake’s truck and planted him in the passenger seat, where he fell asleep again with his forehead pressed against the rain-spattered window.

You sneak peeks at him the whole way home. You take note of everything, from the steady rhythm of his breathing to how his head keeps sliding down the window and he continues to catch himself unconsciously. It’s endearing beyond words when he smacks his lips together and curls his feet up in the seat and rests his head on your bony shoulder.

It's amazing that after two years of dating Jake, moments like this make your heart skip and cartwheel through some flowers and shit.

Finally you make it back to your home. Jake sleepily drags himself out of the truck and towards the house while you retrieve the luggage, your arms heavy with suitcases and bags as you kick the door shut behind you. Jake is pouring himself a glass of water and downs it in two gulps before sleepily trudging back towards the bedroom. He pulls his shirt lazily over his head, the smooth skin on his back stretching along the toned muscles. A half-lidded eye looks back at you, glazed over with exhaustion but the look on his face was _unbelievably fucking sexy_ and it goes straight to your pants. Jake smiles sleepily and gestures towards the bedroom.

Holy shit, _yes_.

You set your shades down on the counter and remove your fingerless gloves, already slipping off your shirt on the way down the hall. You grin to yourself before stepping into the doorway, looking over at the bed with a coy smile.

The smile quickly drops when you see Jake passed the fuck out on top of the blankets. You groan and lie down in bed next to him, somehow managing to get the blankets out from under him, and wrapping it around the both of you.

You snuggle into Jake’s back, spooning (you’re always the big spoon) and resting your chin on the top of his head. His steady breathing quickly lulls you to sleep, a smile on your face.

…

Jake is awake before you are, laying on top of your chest. You raise an eyebrow at him and he just smiles goofily, softly pressing his lips against yours. You smirk back at him and twirl your fingers through the soft strands of brown hair.

“Morning,” Jake chuckles against your lips. You feel his morning breath against your face but choose to ignore it, just smiling at him.

“Listen, I’m sorry I fell asleep last night,” he says sleepily, resting his head in the crook of your neck. “I know we’ve barely gotten to spend any time together, and you even went to the trouble of making sure Dave and Jade wouldn’t be home…”

“Well…” you smirk. “It’s still early. I’d guess we still have a good couple of hours.”

You feel Jake’s chuckle before you hear it. “Oh, really?” Jake leans up and presses his lips against yours again. You smile into it and return the kiss, your lips melding perfectly with each other. Jake’s hands reach and curl around the back of your neck. You subconsciously rest your hands on either of Jake’s hips, thumbs tucking into the elastic of his underwear.

You stay like that for a while, lips crashing together and very, very slowly becoming more feverish. Suddenly the blanket covering the both of you became very restricting, and Jake threw it off and let it slowly tumble off the bed.

Your eyes scanned the now visible body hovering over you. Jake’s shirt had been removed last night, allowing you a perfect view. Jake had just the slightest patch of hair on his chest but a quite visible happy trail leading down the deep curve between his muscles and down below. He smiled as his hands found their way under your shirt, dragging his short fingernails tantalizingly along your sides. You twitch slightly when his fingers ghost over your ribcage and he chuckles a half-hearted apology. Half-hearted meaning that your morning wood decided to greet his, and as such, he didn’t really mean it.

Taking the initiative, Jake attached his lips to your neck, allowing his tongue to lap over the sensitive skin. He elicits a slight groan from you and you, this time intentionally, grind yourself upwards into your fiance. He shudders above you and nibbles on your skin, switching off between sucking your skin and planting small bites on you as he works his way down, past your collarbone, shoulder, and downwards towards your chest. At this point you’re at full mast and decide that Jake is being just a bit too dominant today.

You roll Jake off of you and smirk as you end up with a hand on either side of his head, noticing Jake to be sporting a matching smile. You kiss him briefly before copying his previous motions, kissing and biting at his neck as you move down across the deliciously tanned skin. Jake shudders as your hands ghost across his abdomen, calloused fingers from weeks of robotics work twirling around his nipel. Jake groans as you decide to ignore them and go straight to planting kisses along his stomach, lips brushing again and again against the strong muscles that you love to touch. You slip your hands into the back of Jake’s pants and give his rump a good squeeze, and Jake’s hands go and tug at your blond locks of hair, desperate to latch to something, desperate just to _touch_.

A silent agreement is made to make short work of Jake’s far-too-tight jeans and toss them off the side of the bed with a quiet thump. You attach yourself to his lips again, more feverishly than before. His tongue darts into your mouth and yours into his, dancing sensually around each other.

Jake releases a groan into your mouth when you dip two fingers below the waistband of his underwear and tug them down to his thighs, the hand quickly rising back up to stroke the underside of his manhood. He shudders and buries his face into your neck, muffled gasps escaping him as you continue to rub him. Jake whimpers and tugs at your own underwear, which you allow him to remove before returning to your own duties.

Jake grabs your hand before you can take hold of him. “Remember what I told you, Dirk?”

Right. Your pleasure is as important as his. Two years out of prostitution, and still that habit hasn’t been broken.

You nod slowly to Jake who pushes you on your back, leaning down to your own member. He drags his tongue lazily along the bottom, the skilled muscle hitting every sensitive nerve on you before trailing off at the tip. You shudder and lace your fingers through his thick hair, urging him downwards. He grins up at you before taking the entire length at once, bearing down on you like he’s getting paid for it.

And you know _that_ when you see it. Two years has given Jake good practice, and _damn_ is he good.

He sucks deeply and moans around your dick, vibrations radiating through your whole body. His head bobs up and down around you, never leaving fully and pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Eventually you have to drag him off by his hair, grinning to yourself like a damn fool. You’re panting something that remotely sounds like ‘stop, I’m close’, and you hope he gets the message. Jake reaches for the nightstand and retrieves a condom and some lube, our usual tools for sexy times.

He rolls the condom onto your dick, just the slightest contact of his skin on yours sending shocks of electricity through your entire body. He drizzles the freezing cold lubricant on it and pumps it a few times, getting an even coat. He puts a bit on his finger and preps himself slightly, but honestly by now he’s more than used to this.

He crawls on top of you far too slowly, his member brushing aimlessly against yours as he reaches up to plant a gentle kiss on your lips. He whispers something that you don't quite catch aside from "gadzooks", which probably would have made you laugh if you weren't so entirely turned on.

Jake's left hand positions you just at his entrance, and he slowly slides downward, engulfing you in seconds. A slight seethe escapes between his teeth as he seats himself on top of you, but his smile returned as he rocked his hips forward in the most mind-blowing way he could manage.

Sparks crackle on your skin as Jake continues to ride you, internal walls squeezing around you tighter and tighter as you feel Jake coming closer to climax, and you grab his hips and forcibly slow him down. He whimpers and the desperate glow in his eyes was almost enough to break your willpower.

But you're a bit of a heartless bastard.

Jake always hates when you do this, but it's just too great watching him squirm. Jake whimpers again and tries to rock his hips again, so you force yourself upward and situate Jake on his back. You manage to graze his prostate in the process, earning a deep moan in exchange, and you grab the base of his dick roughly in case of a surprise orgasm.

His breaths are short but heavy, whimpers still escaping him between breaths. The already toned muscles on his stomach tighten as he's desperately close to release. You're still inside of Jake and _desperate_ to move, but you wait until Jake's breathing steadies out almost a full ten minutes later. His erection has softened a bit but you can still feel the heat rolling off of him.

"Damn you, Dirk Strider," he groans, chuckling slightly in exasperation. "You're cruel to me."

"My apologies. I just wanted to watch you squirm a bit before I make you cum like fireworks," you growl, thrusting slowly inside of him. He shivers as my words run through his mind, and his back arches as his prostate is probed at again, gasping. His erection is back in seconds at full force, and you decide that you've teased him enough for today.

You pull out entirely and jam yourself back inside as roughly as you can, earning an ear-shattering scream from Jake that you won’t be forgetting anytime soon.

Things move quickly after that. It becomes animalistic, aggressive thrusts that slam into Jake’s poor, tortured ass again and again. Your hand shoots to Jake’s dick and you pump it in rhythm with your vicious thrusts. Jake’s moans are lost in the wind, replaced with illiterate screams of pleasure and pain mingled together in what’s probably the most intense sex that either of you have had in your entire lives.

It doesn’t take long after that, what with Jake’s abused prostate already pushed well past its limit. He cums more than you’ve seen in a long time, coating your hand as well as a good bit of his stomach. A bit even manages to catch you in the eye, effectively scaring the shit out of you and throwing off your rhythm for a second.

It doesn’t really matter, though, because two more thrusts and you’ve already emptied yourself into the condom. You crumple on top of Jake, sticky and completely drained of energy. Your breaths begin to match rhythm, both heavy and mingled with slight tremors of aftershock following the earthquake that had just effectively wrecked both of you.

It’s at least ten minutes before the spots clear from your vision and you’re able to form a coherent sentence. You pull out of Jake, deflated and sort of depressed looking from the waist down, and pull off the messy condom and tossing it in the trash. It didn’t even hold all of your cum, most of it spilling onto Jake’s lap before you manage to tie it properly. He mutters something along the lines of “you’re a dick”, but his words slur together and you choose to act like you didn’t hear him.

“I fucking love you, Jake,” I tell him, crawling on top of him and planting a kiss onto his lips. Jake’s mouth is dry but you don’t care because the love of your life will kiss you anytime he wants, and he’d get one for every second for the rest of his life if he wouldn’t die from lack of oxygen.

“Love you too,” he replies softly, his lips leaving yours only long enough to tell you what you already know before attaching to yours again. His voice is hoarse and he sounds like he’s been gargling sand from all of his screaming, but he smiles anyway like it’s the best thing in the world.

And you’re lucky because to him, to you, it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot how much I loved writing smut until I had to wipe my blood off my keyboard.
> 
> Next chapter is the end, ladies and gents. I'd like to promise that it'll be up soon but let's be honest, I'm no good with deadlines. I hope you liked this chapter, guys! Please leave Kudos and Comments if you did, they're pretty much my only inspiration for writing because I'm a total glory whore.
> 
> I'm sort of up in the air about whose perspective I want the wedding to be from. I'll probably switch back and forth a bit so that we can get some feels from both sides. Maybe leave a comment with your opinion? :)
> 
> See you next time.


	19. Jake: Get Married

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say aside from an apology for my absence. Check for notes at the end.

Your name is Jake English, and tomorrow is your wedding day.

You stay with Jane the night before the wedding, deciding that the next time you would see the love of your life, it would be at the altar. Neither of you are religious, but families on both sides decided that a proper Church wedding would be best. Plus, the middle finger towards every Church out there who would call you wrong was a major plus.

You don’t sleep well, instead tossing and turning for hours on end. Jane has a different experience altogether, passed out on her bed and snoring so loudly that you can hear her from the living room where you’d taken the couch.

If someone had told you three years ago that before the night of your wedding, you’d be sleeping on a couch that looked like several children had been born on (Roxy claims it has “charm” and “nostalgia fumes”, whatever the fuck that means), you would have laughed in their face and then apologized for doing so.

If you’d been told that three years ago, you would be marrying a man, you would have laughed without apologizing.

It still hits you sometimes that you haven’t been like this your entire life, fawning over someone of the same sex. You still don’t identify your sexuality with labels, but you’d always been interested in women. Dirk seems to break all kinds of rules, whether he knows it or not. You wonder briefly if Dirk has ever made anyone but you feel as special as you do, but push those thoughts away.

If you keep thinking about Dirk this way, you’re never going to get any sleep.

“Something on your mind, Jake?” a tender voice asks you. You sit up and look over the back of the couch, seeing Roxy standing in front of you. Her smile is soft and her hands are folded over her chest, her eyes half-lidded and filled with exhaustion. You smile and nod slightly, sitting up. She joins you on the couch.

“Just nerves,” you answer truthfully. Roxy smiles and smacks her lips a couple of times. It’s almost funny seeing the gorgeous Roxy Lalonde like this, what without her makeup and beautiful clothes. Her hair is pulled into a messy bun, bleach blonde bits of hair sticking out in every direction imaginable.

“Tomorrow is a big day for you,” says Roxy, stating the obvious. “I think you’re allowed to have some butterflies in your stomach.”

“Feels more like centipedes kickboxing my internal organs,” you tell her, and she snorts obnoxiously in an attempt to stay quiet enough to let her girlfriend sleep.

“You snagged yourself a good one, Jake,” she tells you. “Everything’s gonna go fine. What’s got you all nervous?”

“I just…” you start, blinking a couple of times in realization. “I guess there really isn’t one. It just hasn’t really sunk in that…”

“This time tomorrow, you’re going to be Jake Strider?” she giggles, winking at you. You scowl at that internally.

“We’re not changing our names,” you tell her. “But, essentially, yes.”

You sit like that for a while, watching each other’s reactions to everything that was going on. You keep reliving moments with Dirk in the past. Seeing him at the bar, Dave’s birthday party, his face at his parents’ house when he first caught you there. It’s hard to believe that was only a few days ago, despite the eternity it feels like.

“Well I don’t know much about gay boys,” Roxy teases, earning a mumbled protest on your side. “But Dirk’s never been with anyone like this. Like, ever, and this is coming from someone who’s known him a long time. You’re really special to him, I hope you know that.”

You don’t reply. You don’t know how to. Roxy doesn’t go without noticing this, and merely shrugs.

“But what do I know, eh? I’m just some worn out old whore,” she smiles. That breaks the mood, drawing a smile from you and her alike. She pats your leg and tells you to get some sleep before trudging back to her bedroom to join Jane. You don’t know Roxy very well, despite how long you’ve known her. But you’ve always tended to keep more with Jane, and Dirk with Roxy. But she somehow managed to calm your nerves, and sleep sounds good.

Getting sleep was a nice thought, anyway. That didn’t happen.

…

Your name is Dirk Strider, and today is your wedding day.

How long have you dreamed of marrying Jake? You’d wanted to propose for an entire year before you finally got your shit together and did it. But that he’d said yes was another miracle altogether, and after all the bullshit with your parents, the wedding felt even farther away than it really was. Before you knew it, you were waking up alone in your bed.

Funny how you build up expectations for your wedding day. You want to see the person you love all day, wake up with them, eat breakfast. Then you’ll ride together to the Church, holding hands and whispering cute shit to each other the whole way. Then there’s the ceremony, followed by driving away in a limo decorated with shitty pop cans with ‘Just Married’ written in the back in the most ironic way possible.

Instead, you wake up in a cold bed with your hair a wreck, reaching to kiss someone who isn’t there.

You get up and go through your regular routine with a bit more care. You spend time on your hair and put in your new diamond earrings (not real diamonds, but it’s the thought that counts). You make sure to wash all your nooks and crannies, because smelling like the underside of a water buffalo is the last thing you want on your big day.

Actually the last thing you want is Jake to run out on you, but you push that thought to the back of your head.

You get ready at last, dressed comfortably in a pair of sweatpants and a shitty T-shirt with your tux packed neatly on a hanger and covered in a plastic sheet. You hold it gently over your shoulder in a hilariously feminine way, standing outside your house, waiting.

Another ruined fantasy for your wedding day. Instead of driving there with the love of your life, you’re waiting on a fucking Juggalo and his boyfriend to give you a ride in his shitty tow truck.

When Gamzee finally shows up, you climb readily into the backseat without a word. Tavros greets you quietly from the passenger seat, and you merely nod and smile. Gamzee turns his head lazily with a massive, shit-eating grin on his face. He went without his makeup for once, his regular features and a mole you’d forgotten about on his cheek apparent for the first time in years. You suspect that Tavros is the only one that ever sees him without it.

“Wow, no paint today Gamzee?” you tease as he pulls out from the curb, still not even facing the road but you’ve gotten used to his driving by now.

“Not on my bro’s special motherfucking day,” his deep voice rings out, making you smile. You still love the sound of your ‘special day’, even if it does make you smile like a teenage girl in an anime.

“Yet you couldn’t be sober. I feel the love.”

“You wouldn’t want me to be sober at your wedding, motherfucker,” he chuckles. “Not everybody would come out of it.”

You don’t want to think about what he means by that. Luckily, Tavros provides an easy out only seconds later.

“So are you nervous, Dirk?” he asks, resting his chin in one hand. He looks nice today, you realize. His mohawk is slightly untamed but you can tell it’s supposed to be that way. His shirt is buttoned up with no tie, pants pressed and neat. You note the difference between him and Gamzee, the former of which seemed comfortable in his clothes and the latter fidgeting with his buttoned collar endlessly. You’ve seen Gamzee dressed formally a total of zero times, and the fact that Tavros managed to get him _not_ to wear sweatpants to your wedding is a miracle in itself.

“A little,” you lie. In fact you’re nearly shitting yourself, but choose to keep that to yourself. “I keep calm knowing that Jake must be a thousand times worse.”

“I know I’m going to be a wreck,” Tavros giggles, eyes fluttering to Gamzee and then back to you. You raise an eyebrow at him, and Tavros merely lifts his hand to show you the small gold band on it.

“You mean you two are…?”

“Yup!” Gamzee exclaimed happily. “Finally decided that nobody else is allowed to have Tavbro except for me.” He looked away from the road for just a second to plant an obnoxiously loud kiss on the shaved part of Tavros’ hair, earning a disgusted sound mixed with a chuckle from him.

“Congratulations,” you grin and Tavros merely mutters a shy thank you as his face turned beet red from Gamzee’s kiss. The rest of the ride to the Church is silent aside for occasional comments, nerves getting the best of you.

…

Your name is Jake English, and you are in a Church.

You’ve never had much of an opinion on religion. Your Grandmother, while not a Bible-thumper or someone who attends every weekend, is a Christian and requested politely that you and Dirk marry in a Church to try and keep some traditional value to the ceremony. Dirk had argued that his skin would melt off if he even so much as looked at a cross, his hair catching on fire and his skeleton dissolving into rainbow sprinkles, but you smacked him across the head and chided him for being obnoxious. That was enough to get him to agree, surprisingly enough.

Jane drove you to the Church since you and Dirk would be riding out in ‘the most ironic fucking joyride you’ve ever seen’, which you’re assuming is either a Prius or a decked-the-fuck-out limo. Either way, you’re positive it’s going to be embarrassing but oh well.

Jane helped you into your tux and you into her dress. She and Roxy were obvious choices for Bridesmaids, with Eridan and Sollux stepping in as the Best Men. It took a while to convince Dave to be the Ring Bearer because he’s ‘simply too old for this kind of bullshit’, but Jade took no convincing and merely screeched a yes. Jane assured you that Jade was going to be beautiful, but Dirk refused to give an answer as to whether or not Dave had a suit. If he showed up dressed as Rainbowdash, only you would be to blame.

Jane looks beautiful in her dress, bright blue with a knee-length skirt that swoops outwards when she turns. Her earrings are simple gold hoops and her short hair has been carefully styled, each hair falling perfectly into place.

“Getting excited, Jake?” she grins, fiddling with her pearl necklace. You had to remind yourself that she knows nothing about yours and Roxy’s conversation last night. Not that it’s exactly a secret, but still.

“Nervous,” you answer simply. Jane smiles warmly and plants a kiss on your cheek. You feel your face start heating up, but her smile when she pulls back is enough to get you back to your regular complexion.

“Jake, you and Dirk are perfect for each other,” Jane tells you. “I don’t know if you know about everything...as far as my feelings are considered. But I never wanted you and Dirk to get together.”

Now what you wanted to hear on your wedding day.

“But,” she interjected, noticing your discomfort with the statement. “Now I’ve found someone for myself. Roxy is everything I’ve wanted in my life, and I’m glad that you and Dirk feel the same way.”

You stand there for a few moments that stretch on for eternity, you and Jane just...watching each other. Your surprised face cracks into a smile and you wrap your arms around her so tight that you feel her heart beating and her back cracking.

“I love you so much, Jane,” you grin, choking back tears. “Thank you.”

You feel her smile against your shoulder. “Love you too, dork.”

…

Your name is Dirk Strider, and your wedding begins in two hours.

You and Roxy have been holed up in this room for a while, nearly silent, getting ready. You slipped into your tux quickly, Roxy helping you with the collar. She put on her dress, and you help her zip up. The two of you help each other get ready in only a few minutes, leaving way too much time to sit and feel awkward and nervous.

“Dirk, come help me with my makeup,” Roxy requested and you nod. You stalk over quietly, feeling your legs shake on the way over. Sitting still, you’d almost fallen into a state of complacency, pushed your nerves away even if only for a moment. That hits you hard when you have to lean on the table in front of Roxy.

Thankfully she doesn’t comment, and somehow you manage to steady your hands to start working on her makeup. It’s familiar for some reason, the smells of the various chemicals as you douse her in whore paint (her words, not yours).

Roxy chuckles, surprising you and if you weren’t paying so much attention, it would have ruined her makeup. “Something funny?” you half-laugh.

“It’s just sort of...poetic, I guess,” she smiles, exchanging a glance with you. You feel your eyebrow raise automatically, setting down the pencil and leaning back against the table.

“What do you mean?”

“Remember the last time you did my makeup, Dirk? Cuz I do,” she tells you, wiggling her eyebrows for a second. You chew your lip thoughtfully, but honestly nothing comes to you. You did Roxy’s makeup a million times when you both worked at the bar, so what is she going on about?

It hits you only a split second before Roxy says it out loud. “It was the night you met Jake.”

It’s sort of hard to picture that it’s been so long. How did something so simple as makeup put yours and Jake’s entire relationship in perspective for a moment? Somehow this one moment has finally slipped the final piece of the puzzle into place, the last click of the lock.

“Everything’s finally come full circle, I guess,” you say, more to yourself than to Roxy, but she nods anyway. She smiles and throws her arms around your neck, hugging you close.

“Lot’s changed these past couple years, huh Dirky?” she grins. You nod into her shoulder as you continue to hug, fingers tightening around the fabric of her dress. She chuckles a little and pulls back, planting a small kiss on the corner of your mouth (you think she was aiming for your cheek but oh well). “Come on, boy. I hear wedding bells.”

…

Your name is Jake English, and you’re about to walk down the aisle.

Grandma squeezes your arm affectionately, and you look down at Dave and Jade nervously. Dave seems indifferent to the whole thing on the outside, but you’ve gotten better at reading the young Strider, and you can tell that he’s at least _kind of_ excited/nervous about all this. Jade is positively beaming, her face stretched into a blindingly white grin.

Jade goes first as music starts to play, a spring in her step as petals fly through the air, spinning and twirling around each other before falling into the aisle. You can’t help but marvel at the twirling blue dress, beautiful on your neice. She’s really grown into a beautiful young woman, and what a time for you to notice that to its full extent.

Dave is next, walking officially (if not still slouching a bit) down the aisle with the rings on a pillow. You straighten yourself, fixing your tie and fiddling with the ends of your sleeves. Grandma grins and pushes on the small of your back lightly. You must have missed your cue to go on.

As you step around the corner, all the guests turn to look at you. You suddenly feel very awkward in your white suit, contrasting with Dirk’s at the very end of the far too long aisle.

And then it all vanishes. Dirk is still there, though. You see his suit, black and form fitting. You see his hair, blond and swished off to one side as per the usual. You see his shocking orange eyes, halfway surprised that they aren’t covered by his silly anime shades.

Then you see him smile. Just a little smile, though, not the stupid grin he makes when he tells you a bad pun. The kind of smile that you get once in a lifetime, the kind that without words tells you that you are the most important person in the world to him. And suddenly you’re glad that everyone is looking at you instead of Dirk, because that’s a smile you want to keep for yourself, to lock it away and make sure he only smiles at you like that.

Then, in a moment of clarity and realization, you realize that you’ve been staring at him from the back of the aisle, and everyone is wondering what the fuck you’re waiting for. Naturally instead of walking like a normal person, you run down the aisle to make up for lost time like an idiot.

Dirk chuckles softly and you throw yourself at him, hugging him at the altar and burying your face in his shoulder. He smiles and hugs you softly, shrugging at someone in the crowd.

“So much for walking down the aisle,” he teases, just loud enough for the first couple of rows to hear. They chuckle and all you can do is smile back up at him, shrugging as well.

“We were never very traditional to begin with, were we?”

He smiles again. “I guess not.”

…

“The grooms have prepared their own vows. Dirk, if you would,” the man requests politely. You clear your throat into your fist, running over what you wanted to say. It’s mostly gone, but you’re positive that what you really want to say to him, what you want everyone to know about how you feel, will come to you in the moment.

“Jake,” you begin. “It’s not a secret that I was in a rough place when we met. My job was...less than savory.” Meenah clears her throat from the audience, which you choose to ignore. “I wasn’t living up to the person I had the potential to be. And when I first saw you, you know what I thought?”

Jake cocks his head to one side, confused. “I thought you looked like the biggest dork in the bar.” Chuckles ring out across the Church, but you continue on. “And from that night, I realized that what I had wasn’t good enough unless I got to drag you down with me. But instead of that, you pulled me out of it all.”

The entire place goes silent, and Jake is already on the verge of tears. You don’t want him a sobbing mess through his vows, so you’ll have to wrap this up quick.

“I love you, Jake English. And honestly I’m surprised I’m even standing here today after all I, and more importantly, after all you’ve had to go through.”

People clap and someone whistles from the back followed by a quick shoosh (you suspect Gamzee and Tavros, respectively). The man between you turns to Jake next, urging him to continue on with his own vows.

“Dirk,” he begins. “Your eyes are the brightest amber--”

He goes on to give the girliest and most embarrassing vows in gay wedding history. Halfway through, you can’t suppress a smile and the Church is in quiet chuckles when he turns to look at them, and then back to you.

“I’m doing this wrong, aren’t I?” he whispers to you. You shake your head and take hold of his hand, smiling.

“I thought it was very sweet,” you tease. His face turns blood red as people burst out into laughter.

“I look like an idiot,” he mumbles, and you tilt his chin up. Without breaking eye contact from Jake, said eyes wide and shimmering green, you bark a question at the priest.

“Can I kiss my adorable fucking fiancé yet?” you ask. The priest is taken aback, apparently, and throws his hands up in exasperation while muttering something along the lines of ‘fuck it, I give up’.

You and Jake share a grin before crashing your lips together, listening closely to the roar of cheers and whistles that ring out. His lips are chapped and his breaths are shallow, and you’re positive that it’s the best kiss you’ve ever had in your life.

You pull back with a grin, your forehead still pressed against his. “Sorry, make that my _husband_.”

“Your _adorable fucking husband_ , thank you very much,” he teases. Son of a bitch, you’re really rubbing off on him.

“Well I certainly don’t want to sell you short.”

You grab Jake’s wrist and hoist it high into the air as the cheers get even louder, smiles on both of your faces. People congratulate as you and Jake walk down the aisle, hands clasped together and heads held high.

You burst through the front doors of the Church and down the steps, bells ringing high above your heads. The limo is waiting, decked the fuck out in paint depicting the typical ‘JUST MARRIED’ on the back windshield along with an entire comic strip of Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff (courtesy of Dave), flowers out the wazoo (courtesy of Jade). Various cans of soup, orange soda and Faygo are tied onto the back with what were once parachute strings (because who knows why), and it’s the most beautiful and most ironic thing you think you’ve ever seen in your life. Jake is red from head to toe and the majority of the Church is outside laughing at the vehicle.

You pull Jake into one last kiss before dragging him in a full sprint towards the limo. Your Honeymoon awaits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll notice that it ended abruptly. Inspiration hit me like crazy tonight (despite it being...5:13 in the morning) and I couldn't keep this in. I'm adding one last chapter, and I'm not writing the Honeymoon, but something does need to be said in the next chapter. A sort of closure I've neglected that needs to happen finally for both of my beautiful boys.
> 
> So did you like the wedding scene? Leave a comment and let me know, I'm actually kind of nervous about how it turned out :X
> 
> Make sure to leave Kudos and stuff, too! I'm a total glory whore lol. The next chapter ACTUALLY SHOULD BE OUT REALLY SOON FOR ONCE


	20. Dirk: Do the Epilogue Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTICE: I'm uploading this chapter on the same day as Chapter 19. If you just went to the newest chapter today, you missed something big :P
> 
> Okay, so guys you might want to grab some tissues for this chapter. I cried writing it. I'm sorry ;A;

Your name is Dirk Strider, and your bags are finally packed.

You and Jake were already packed most of the way before the wedding, but you still had the finishing touches to add after you got back from your ceremony. It’s late, probably almost one in the morning. Jake is already asleep on the other side of the room, starfished out on the bed and drooling slightly. You still have to correct yourself every few minutes, remind yourself that the dork lying on top of the covers is your _husband_ now. The entire thing is so surreal that it’s hard to wrap your head around.

You’re not feeling particularly sleepy despite the late hour, despite how tempting it is to crawl into bed with Jake. Something about tonight feels restless, unfinished. You don’t know what it is, but you just feel like there’s something you’re supposed to be doing.

So you slip on your shoes, step outside, and you start to walk.

You have no direction in mind, and you don’t make any attempt to pay attention where you’re going so that you can find your way back. Your feet move on their own, the steady rhythm on the concrete the only sound breaking the silence. Even the bugs seem to have gone to sleep for the night.

Your fingers touching a cool piece of metal pulls you from your trance along with the creaking of rusty hinges as a gate swings open. You blink a couple of times, not even quite sure of where you are, until you look in front of you and realize where you’ve gone.

A graveyard? What the hell are you doing here?

You decide not to think too much on it, stepping inside the grounds silently. You walk amongst the headstones, eyes scanning lazily across the names engraved in them. You stop once and a while to pay more attention when a headstone catches your eye, to read the engraving. You notice that flowers are fresh on some graves and wilted on others, and some have no flowers at all. None of the graves are familiar for a long time.

Until one is.

Here lies Alicia English  
Born November 6, 1963  
Died October 14, 2013  
Lost, but not forgotten

You have to reread it a few times to realize that you’re standing in front of Jake’s mom.

You never asked to visit her. Jake went on the anniversary each year, but you were either busy or he wanted to go alone. It was a personal thing for him, you understood that. It just wasn’t your problem to him.

You feel like you should say something. What do you say about a woman you’ve never met? With nothing else to think about, you start with a simple “Hey”.

No reply, of course. The wind picks up a little bit and suddenly you wish you’d brought a jacket with you.

“I don’t really know why I’m here,” you admit sheepishly, looking down blankly at the headstone. “I’m not going to say that I miss you or anything. I never met you. I just...”

Suddenly, you know what to say. Even if nobody is listening.

“I just wish...I wish I could have met you. Just once,” you continue. “I want to know why Jake missed you so much, why he was at the bar that night. I’d like to believe it was destiny. I don’t want to call it luck because of everything that happened...with you. But...yeah.”

You pause for a long time, tracing the weathered cracks in the headstone with your eyes. You brush the dead leaves and twigs from it, cleaning it up some. You wish you had flowers or something to put on it. All you have is some lint in your pockets and a heavy burden in your chest.

“I love your son, Miss English. I don’t know how you would have felt about it if you were here. I guess it doesn’t really matter,” you say. “But I swear to you that I’ll take care of him.”

Something falls into place in your chest and you feel like everything has finally finished. If not a bit solemn, you walk out of the graveyard knowing that you’ve made peace with it all.

…

Florida has beautiful beaches.

You run your hands through your dark brown hair as the wind tosses it from side to side, the vast ocean sprawled out in front of you. When did you get to the beach? Honestly you can’t remember anything but that you’re walking parallel with the shoreline, your feet damp with salt water and soggy sand clinging to the bottom of your feet.

Someone’s with you, and it feels right that they’re there, but you don’t know who it is really. You walk one, two, maybe three miles in silent complacency, hearing the gulls and the crashing of waves. It’s peaceful, bliss. The beaches are empty except for you and the person beside you, and somehow you come to the realization that none of this is real.

Dreams are funny like that.

You look to your left, starting from the bottom of the person. Her feet are bare, and you only know it’s a woman because of her dainty feet with glittery white nail polish on her toes. Somehow they’re unblemished by the sand, which you decide is not very important at all.

Looking a bit further up, you see a white sundress with lace edges. It stops just below her knees, flowing along with the winds rolling off the ocean’s surface. Your eyes trail up along her curvy frame, beautiful in the way that most people don’t recognize. Understated, natural.

Then your eyes lock with the woman beside you, two greens matching perfectly.

“Mom,” you say quietly, stopping in your tracks. She smiles warmly, her laugh lines appearing as she does.

“Hi, Jake,” she smiles. She continues walking, and something compels you to follow alongside her.

“This isn’t real, is it?” you ask, already knowing the answer. Her smile doesn’t falter and she just shrugs her shoulders.

“What’s real to you might not be real to someone else,” she tells you, kicking a little bit of sand with one foot.

“You sound like the Mad Hatter,” you would half-laugh if not for the current situation. Mom smiles appreciatively, raising a delicate eyebrow at you.

“You always did love that movie,” she grins. “My favorite Halloween costume you ever did was when you were in fifth grade and you dressed up as the White Rabbit.”

“I had the clock and everything,” you grin, remembering the costume as well. The two of you smile and laugh a little as you continue along the neverending beach, somehow managing to enjoy the company.

“Why are you here, Jake?” she asks and you shrug.

“I was sort of hoping you could tell me.”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” she chides. “Your dream. Why are you here?”

You think about that for a long time. Dream Mom seems to understand your thought process as you continue along the beach silently.

“I guess I just missed you today is all,” you tell her. “I got married.”

“Really?” she asks, and you hear the surprise in her voice. You know deep down that she’s just in your head, and that you don’t owe your imagination any confessions, but it still feels right to be talking to her like this. You’re not sure why. “Who to?” she probes further.

“You don’t know him,” you say flatly. She blinks a couple of times, processing it. It’s almost scary how her mannerisms haven’t changed a bit despite her more upbeat demeanor than you ever remember her having.

“A boy, then?” she asks and you nod sheepishly. “You know, I always kind of figured. How you were with your blue ladies? It felt like you were overcompensating.” You manage a small laugh at that. “Well, go on. Tell me about him.”

So you tell your story.

You tell her about the bar, your first kiss, Thanksgiving, your first date. You tell her about being kidnapped on your birthday to go shopping and out to eat with all your wonderful friends. She doesn’t interrupt, and you’re glad that she hasn’t changed even after all this time. If you could merit her for one thing, she was always the best listener.

Then you tell her about the wedding. After that your memory gets fuzzy, the unsure barrier between when you got home and when you fell asleep. She seems to understand somehow. You don’t question it.

“He sounds like a...colorful young man,” she chuckles.

“So you really would have been okay with it? If you weren’t…”

“If I weren’t what? Dead?” she laughs heartily. You don’t find it very funny, but apparently it’s the most hilarious thing in the world to her. “Oh sweetie, did you even know me at all?”

“...”

You’re quiet for a moment while she fights back her giggles, stopping you on the beach and enclosing both of your hands in hers.

“I know we weren’t as close as you were with your grandmother, sweetie,” she starts apologetically. “But I loved you more than anyone else in the world. And I admit, I’m ashamed of myself that you didn’t know that.”

“Mom...why did you do it?” you ask. You shouldn’t have to elaborate, she should know what you mean. But it’s almost like she freezes in place until you do. “Why did you...why did you kill yourself, Mom? Why would you do that?”

You’re crying now. She clicks her tongue and runs a hand along your cheek, the soft skin a small comfort given the situation.

“Oh, baby...” she mutters sadly. “I wasn’t well. My body was fine but my heart was heavy. It just...I felt like I had overstayed my welcome.”

You don’t talk after that. You just stand there for a few minutes while you attempt to stop crying to no avail. She strokes your cheek and your hair, whispering things that you don’t really catch. Then she pulls you into a tight hug that you return instantly.

“It’s time to go, Jake.” You try to speak to her but your voice stops working. “I love you so much. I’ve only ever wanted the best for you. I want you to wake up and live your life as much as you can. Make up for what I foolishly threw away. Can you do that for me, sweetie?”

You can’t talk, but you nod into her shoulder as you continue to cry helplessly. It feels like you’re losing her again, slipping away as your consciousness starts seeping back into your body.

“I love you, Jake.”

Your eyes shoot open and you’re in bed, your face against a plain white shirt. Your hands are wrenched in the fabric and it’s wet with your tears.

You take a few moments to compose yourself, tuning out his questions until you can calm down. Eventually you have no choice but to look at him when his large hands land on either of your cheeks, pulling your face up to force eye contact. His soft, orange eyes are wide with concern but he doesn’t speak anymore. You shudder as your tears start to subside, and you nod up at him.

“I love you, too.”

He doesn’t ask what happened to that night. He doesn’t ask about your dream, or why you were crying, or who you were talking to when you said that you loved them. Dirk is like that, he always has been. Intuitive, always knows when something is up. But you’re glad he lets this one be instead of prying at it like he always does.

You’re thankful that he’s the kind of guy who knows what you really want, what you need.

So you’ll wake up every morning, and you’re going to live your life to make up for what your mom threw away. You’re jump out of some planes. Have some kids. Get a new job. And you’re going to grow old with Dirk Strider.

And that’s something to hold on to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, thank you so much for reading this. This is the first fanfiction I've actually ever completed, and I'm so thankful to have such faithful and dedicated readers who were willing to put up with my random pauses in uploading. This story has been such a life experience for me and if you enjoyed reading it even half as much as I did writing it, you've had a good time here. That's all I wanted with this :)
> 
> SO LET'S HAVE A BIG FUCKING ANNOUNCEMENT TO DRY THOSE TEARS
> 
> I still want to write for you guys. I have an idea for another Homestuck fic! I don't know when I'll get to writing it because I want to have at least five chapters done before I start posting. It's going to incorporate three main ships; DirkJake (naturally), DaveJade, and JohnKat. Each of these are going to be getting attention because I have separate plotlines for each ship, perhaps the most interesting of which is for DaveJade as of now. I guess only time will tell, eh? :o)
> 
> Thank you guys so much for reading this story. Stick around, maybe you'll like my next story, too.


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